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“ Pep sniffed at his master’s face eagerly.” 

Page 96 



PEP 

fTJio Siory of a. 

BraveiJod 


By 

CLARENCE HASHES 

ILLUSTRATED 
WILLIAM VAN DRESSER 



MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY 
SPRINGFIELD - MASSACHUSETTS 




Copyright, 1922 

By MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY 
Springfield, Massachusetts 


All Rights Reserved 


Bradley Quality Boobs 


Printed in United States of America 


To Dog-Lovers, 
the whole world over, 
this book is fraternally 
dedicated 



INTRODUCTION 


A FRIEND TO MAN 

By Clarence Hawkes 

I T is almost like a stern irony of fate, 
that man’s faithful, gentle friend, the 
dog, should have sprung from one of the 
most thoroughly hated and despised brutes 
in the animal kingdom, the wolf. 

Yet this is a scientific fact. The wolf, 
with all his meanness and skulking cunning, 
is the progenitor of man’s friend, the dog. 

They belong to the same family, their 
breeding habits are alike, and the wolf is as 
surely the father of the dog, as was brute 
man, the cave dweller, the ancestor of the 
highly civilized creature we now know. 

In the case of the man it has taken untold 
ages to bring about the change, and so it has 
in the case of the dog. When in the dark 


Introduction 


ages the brute man crouched over his camp- 
fire, gazing fearfully into the darkness about 
him, encompassed by superstition and igno- 
rance, the gray wolf hung upon the outskirts 
of his campfire. 

This man creature, that ran upon two 
legs instead of four, who had such strange 
power over fire and water, and over the 
forces of nature and the wild kindred, fas- 
cinated and drew him with a terrible power. 

Try as he would he could not keep away 
from him. Often this man creature 
wounded him with his sharp stick. He also 
poisoned the wolf pack, but still they could 
not be driven away, for it was an unwritten 
law of nature that some day they should be 
inseparable. 

So the wolf skulked upon the trail of the 
primitive man, until the famine, or the cold, 
or some other stern necessity brought them 
together. 

Indians, even now in the far north, often 
take the wolf whelps from the den and play 
with them, and they refer to the wolf as 
‘‘Grandfather’s dog,” showing that they un- 
derstand the gradual evolution of the dog. 


Introduction 


7 


You can better understand this if you visit 
any of their villages where the dogs even 
now are little more than partly domesticated 
wolves, wolfish in habits, and looks. Such 
is the Husky, the famous team dog of the 
frozen north, without whose help the wealth 
of the Klondyke and other remote places 
could hardly have been brought to the out- 
side world. 

The collie, which is one of the most faith- 
ful and lovable of the dog kind, is not so far 
removed from a wolf, and it is very easy for 
him to slip back to his wolf ancestry. There 
are many instances on record where collies 
have gone back to the wild and mated and 
run with the gray pack. Put a collie pup 
into a wolf den with a litter of wolf whelps 
and the old wolf will suckle him as her 
own. He will be brought up as a young 
wolf ; will learn to hunt in the pack, and to 
stalk his game like a veritable wolf. Of 
course he will not be as fierce as his wolf 
brother, and he will still retain certain dog 
characteristics, but he will pass for a wolf 
in most particulars, while in two or three 
generations he will be a veritable wolf. 


8 


Introduction 


When we consider all the varieties of dogs 
ranging from the great Dane of nearly two 
hundred pounds weight, to the smallest toy 
dog coming from Japan, this statement that 
all dogs are descended from wolves seems 
almost incredible, but all this change has 
been wrought by man himself. Breeding 
and selection for certain qualities have been 
the method by means of which he has at- 
tained such varied results. 

Climate, and the use to which the dog has 
been put has also played its part. Nature 
always adapts her creatures to their sur- 
roundings, and the dog is no exception to this 
rule. He has been molded like all of na- 
ture’s other creatures. Where he needed 
long hair to shield him from the cold he has 
been given a long, thick coat, and where he 
could not bear a coat because of the heat it 
has been left off. 

Certain types of dogs there are that have 
become famous all over the world, some for 
their beauty and others for their usefulness, 
but usually for both qualities. 

Every child is familiar with the St. Ber- 
nard dogs and their work in the Alpine 


Introduction 


9 


passes, saving lost travelers in the terrible 
storms of those great heights. Perhaps the 
most famous of all those great dogs was 
Barry, whose record as a life saver covered a 
long period of years, and who is credited 
with saving forty lives. 

This is a record that any man might well 
be proud of, and one that few men have at- 
tained. 

Equally famous, and perhaps even more 
useful as a helper of man are the Scotch 
collies and the sheep and cattle dogs of 
England and Scotland. In countries where 
wolves are numerous these fine dogs are in- 
dispensable, and in some sections it would be 
impossible to guard the flock without them. 
The training of a fine sheep dog has become 
a science, and something that the shepherds 
take a deal of pride in. In order to encour- 
age the breeding of finely trained dogs, each 
year in many parts of England and Scotland 
contests of sheep herding dogs are held. 
Then great crowds of people from far and 
near gather and all the fine sheep dogs are 
brought hither and put through their paces. 
Finally when all have contested, the judges 


10 


Introduction 


award the cup or other trophy to the shep- 
herd whose dog has made the best showing. 
Such an event is finely described in that 
famous dog story, “Bob, Son of Battle.’ ’ 

The wolfhounds of Russia, which are 
taught to run in packs and pull down their 
wild kindred, and hold them until the men 
come up are equally famous, if not so use- 
ful. But wolves in Russia are considered 
vermin so these dogs do a good work in help- 
ing to exterminate the pest. 

The Czar of all the Russias was himself 
interested in wolf coursing and is reported 
to have owned the finest pack of wolf dogs 
in the world. 

The Alaskan dog teams are famous 
throughout the world ; not only for the very 
material service that they render man in 
traveling over the frozen lands where not 
even a burrow could travel, but also because 
of the famous races that are held each year 
in Alaska. 

Then the fastest teams in the North are 
brought together, a course of perhaps four 
hundred miles is selected, and at a crack of 
the pistol the teams are off to run the course, 


Introduction 11 

in competition for a sweep stake of ten thou- 
sand dollars. 

Two men constitute the drivers. One 
rides for a ways upon the back of the sled, 
guiding it by what is called gee-pole, while 
the other runs behind. When the man who 
is running is tired he takes his turn upon the 
sled, while the other man runs. By alternat- 
ing in this way, and only one riding at a 
time, fifty and sixty miles can be covered in 
a single day, and in their races even more. 

These Husky dogs with their thick coats 
and tough constitutions are wonderfully 
adapted to such strenuous work. They are 
fed but once a day and then only a pound 
of dry fish. After they have eaten this 
slight meal, they will bury themselves in the 
snow, putting their noses and their paws 
into their shaggy tails for warmth, and sleep 
soundly with the thermometer at fifty and 
sixty below zero. 

Their masters in the meantime are sleep- 
ing in their rabbit skin sleeping bags, which 
weigh from six to twelve pounds. 

Hard as the work is yet these faithful sled 
dogs are eager for each day’s work and are 


12 


Introduction 


nearly heartbroken if they are unable to take 
their places in the traces. 

The teams driven by white men are driven 
tandem, while Indian teams are fan shaped, 
each dog being hitched to the sled by a sepa- 
rate thong. 

Of hunting dogs there are many varieties 
which are always of the utmost importance 
to frontier peoples, where they guard the 
flocks and the premises from all kinds of 
four-footed marauders. Upon the frontier 
these dogs also assist in the chase and thus 
furnish meat for the table and help rid the 
country of vermin, such beasts as the wolf 
that have to go before civilization is secure. 

These hunting dogs also serve a less im- 
portant use among the leisure class. Field 
trials of pointers and setters have become 
important events in the annals of dogs, while 
the running of greyhounds and wolf- 
hounds is a national sport in some countries. 

But \frhat shall we say of the house dog, 
who is one of the family? The sharer of all 
our joys and sorrows: the one from whom 
we have no secrets : the social intimate whose 
tail is a perfect barometer of sunshine and 


Introduction 


13 


storm in the family: the custodian of the 
premises, who always sleeps with one eye 
open, and one ear cocked for the sound of 
prowlers : the friend of the children who fol- 
lows them about like a shadow, watchful 
lest any danger threaten them, often shar- 
ing in their romps with all the zest of a boy. 

This dumb creature worships you, to 
him you are a sort of God— often a rather 
sorry God, hardly worthy of his worship; 
yet a God to him, one whom he can look up 
to, can serve and love. 

How empty the door mat would be without 
him. How silent the premises without his 
occasional cheerful bark. 

Do cares oppress you and is the burden of 
life heavy, are you cast down and unable 
to see a sunbeam through the shadows? 
Look over in the corner. Your own anxious 
mood is reflected upon the face of your dog. 
He is the very picture of misery, uneasy and 
longing to comfort you. 

Presently he will come over to you unable 
to stand it any longer and put his nose into 
your hand, or fall to licking it frantically. 
He is not forward or aggressive, but full of 


14 


Introduction 


humility and abasement. He knows he is 
only a dog, while you are a dog’s God, but he 
wants to comfort you, to take your load upon 
his own shoulders and help you bear it. 

Soon his paws are planted upon your 
knees and he looks up into your face be- 
seechingly. He wags his tail and tries to 
smile, suggesting that you laugh it off. 
Then he jumps down and runs about the 
room to attract your attention by his funny 
pranks, or perhaps he even barks once in 
a deprecating way, but he is soon back again 
licking your face. 

If you are perfectly impassive and silent, 
he becomes almost frantic and will run about 
the room whining, often returning to look up 
into your face as though to pry out the trou- 
ble. Then he is down again. His tail droops 
and his face is a picture of despair. 

Now he is whining softly to himself. If 
you do not speak to him soon and reassure 
him that the trouble is not past mending he 
will lift up his voice and howl, just as his 
ancestors, the wolves, howled ages ago upon 
the desolate plains. 

The great Ibsen in c i The Pretenders’* 


Introduction 


15 


epitomizes this fidelity of the dog when he 
causes King Skule to say: “I must have 
some one by me who sinks his own will ut- 
terly in mine, who believes in me unflinch- 
ingly, who will cling close to me in good-hap 
and ill, who lives only to shed warmth and 
light over my life, and must die if I fall.” 
And Jatgeir replies, “Buy yourself a dog, 
My Lord. ?J 

Many other great men have understood 
and appreciated this faithful creature. 
Pope said, “Histories are more full of the 
examples of the fidelity of dogs than of 
friends.’ ’ Josh Billings exclaims in his 
humorous way, “A dog is the only thing on 
earth that loves you more than he loves him- 
self .’ 1 Tennyson in a simple but truthful 
couplet sings, 

“Faithful and true will be found upon 
four short legs, 

Ten times for one upon two.” 

It was Eugene Field who said that a little 
rough dog can awaken a joy that enters 
eternity. 

The small boy who ties a can to the dog’s 
tail and then laughs as the frantic creature 


16 


Introduction 


runs yelping down the street, or perhaps 
shies a stone at him, knows not that this 
same despised canine may drag him from a 
watery grave, or from a burning building 
on the morrow. A hundred to one the dog 
would remember neither the tin can nor the 
stone, if he saw the boy in peril. 

Forgiveness is the dog’s long suit. So if 
to err is human and to forgive is divine, then 
the dog must have a spark of that great love 
in his brute heart that knows how to forgive. 

Even more culpable than the boy with his 
thoughtless cruelty is the man with his de- 
liberate cruelty, the brute who makes this 
faithful creature the butt for his ill will. 
There is a deal of truth in the statement of 
Roland Hill that every man’s dog or his 
horse knows whether he be a Christian or 
not. 

Where in the annals of mere humans, is 
there a story as touching in its absolute fi- 
delity as that of “Gray Friar’s Bobby?” 
Lest this wonderful true story may not be 
familiar to you I give it here very briefly, 
the account being taken from our Four 
Footed Friends : 


Introduction 


17 


During the fifties there lived in Midlo- 
thian a farmer named Grey. This man, like 
others of his calling, was generally to be 
found in Edinburgh every Wednesday, at- 
tending the market, accompanied always by 
his shaggy terrier, Bobby. It was Grey's 
custom, as the time-gun announced the hour 
of one from the Castle heights, to repair to 
a small restaurant in the neighborhood of 
Grey friar s’ Churchyard, known by the name 
of Traill’s Dining Rooms. Here Bobby and 
his master had their midday meal, which in 
the case of the doggie consisted regularly of 
a bun. 

In 1858 Grey died, and was laid to rest 
near the historic church of Greyfriars, aptly 
named by Sir Walter Scott “the Westmin- 
ster of Scotland . n On the third day follow- 
ing the funeral, and just as the echoes of the 
time-gun were dying away, the occupants 
of Traill’s rooms were surprised to see a dog, 
the picture of woe and hunger, enter the 
doorway and approach the proprietor, upon 
whom he gazed with a most beseeching ex- 
pression. 

Traill immediately recognized in this visi- 


18 Introduction 

tor the once happy and well-cared-for 
Bobby. Stirred with compassion, he gave 
a bun to the silent pleader, who then, with- 
out waiting to eat it, ran out of the shop car- 
rying his newly-found meal in his mouth. 
Next day at the same hour Bobby again ap- 
peared, and repetition of events followed; 
but on the third day, Traill, whose curiosity 
and interest were now thoroughly aroused, 
determined to follow the dog, and thus dis- 
cover his destination. This was soon 
reached, for Bobby, bun in mouth, made 
straight for Greyfriars’ Churchyard where, 
approaching the grave of his master, he lay 
down and began to eat his scanty meal. It 
was now evident that the chief, if not the 
only mourner of the kindhearted farmer, 
had been his four-footed friend Bobby, who, 
after following his late master’s funeral pro- 
cession, had then refused to leave the humble 
mound which marked his grave, until forced 
to do so by the pangs of hunger. Bobby’s 
plight and the locality of his new domicile 
having come to the knowledge of the occu- 
pants of his former home, he was brought 
back, it is said, three times. However, all 


Introduction 


19 


efforts to make him relinquish his chosen 
post proved unavailing and each attempt 
was followed by a speedy return to the same 
spot in Greyfriars. Here Bobby continued 
to spend both days and nights, taking refuge 
only in rough weather under a tombstone 
hard by, and stoutly resisting all friendly 
advances made by the compassionate stran- 
gers desirous of providing a home for him. 
In course of time a shelter was erected for 
his protection near his master’s grave. He 
continued his daily visits to the restaurant, 
arriving punctually at the same hour, and 
never failing to receive his bun from the 
kind-hearted proprietor. This went on for 
nine years when, owing to a more rigorous 
enforcement of the seven shillings yearly 
dog license, Bobby was arrested as a u va- 
grant,” and appeared in court accompanied 
by his humane sympathizer and defender, 
the restaurant keeper, who was accused of 
harboring the dog. They were tried before 
three magistrates who, after hearing the 
story, tempered the law with mercy and for- 
gave him for not paying his rates, thus sav- 
ing Bobby from an untimely end. 


20 


Introduction 


This remarkable dog, who, by an irony of 
fate, had great length of days granted to 
him, lived until 1872, and then, like his mas- 
ter, was buried in Greyfriars’ Churchyard, 
where his grave, now marked by a rose bush, 
is often pointed out to visitors. A short 
time before Bobby’s death the Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts visited Greyfriars, and the 
sight of the Highland mourner so interested 
her, that when his demise occurred, she ob- 
tained permission to erect at the street cor- 
ner, near the churchyard gate, a granite 
fountain with an effigy of the inconsolable 
dog sitting on guard. 

How can I better close this unworthy 
monograph upon man’s faithful friend, than 
by quoting Senator Vest’s immortal tribute 
to the dog delivered before a Missouri jury. 
He certainly epitomizes the subject as no 
one else has. 

6 ‘ Gentlemen of the J ury : The best friend 
a man has in this world may turn against 
him and become his enemy. His son and 
daughter that he has reared with loving care 
may become ungrateful. Those who are 
nearest and dearest to us, those whom we 


Introduction 


21 


trust with our happiness and our good name, 
may become traitors to their faith. The 
money that a man has he may lose. It flies 
away from him when he may need it most. 
Man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a 
moment of ill considered action. The peo- 
ple who are prone to fall on their knees 
and do us honor when success is with us may 
be the first to throw the stone of malice when 
failure settles its cloud upon our heads. 
The one absolutely unselfish friend a man 
may have in this selfish world, the one that 
never deserts him, the one that never proves 
ungrateful or treacherous, is the dog. 

“ Gentlemen of the Jury: A man’s dog 
stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in 
health and in sickness. He will sleep on the 
cold ground, when the wintry winds blow 
and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may 
be near his master’s side. He will kiss the 
hand that has no food to offer, he will lick 
the wounds and sores that come in encounter 
with the roughness of the world. He guards 
the sleep of his pauper master as if he were 
a prince. 

“When all other friends desert, he re- 


22 


Introduction 


mains. When riches take wings and repu- 
tation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his 
love as the sun in its journey through the 
heavens. If fortune drives the master forth 
an outcast into the world, friendless and 
homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher 
privilege than that of accompanying him, to 
guard him against danger, to fight against 
his enemies, and when the last scene of all 
comes and death takes his master in its em- 
brace and his body is laid away in the cold 
ground, no matter if all other friends pursue 
their way, there by his graveside will the 
noble dog be found, his head between his 
paws and his eyes sad, but open in alert 
watchfulness, faithful and true even to 
'death. 2 ’ 


PEP 

Ohe Story of Gl 

DiviveDop 



# 

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, 



• 











































CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I A Blue Ribbon Dog 25 

II The Runaway 38 

III The Crossing 56 

IV The Hospital 73 

V The Battlefield 90 

VI The Rescue 105 


VII Homeward Bound 116 









1 





























•v 





PEP: THE STORY OF 
A BRAVE DOG 


CHAPTEB I 

A BLUE KIBBOST DOG 

P EP sat up very straight at his end of the 
car seat and looked hard out of the win- 
dow. This was his usual amusement when 
he and his master were traveling. But he 
did not travel often, as his master was a very 
busy man, so he appreciated every trip that 
they made. 

His full name was Pepsin. His master 
was a doctor so that accounted for the name. 
With the boys, however, who all loved him, 
the name stood for pep or grit. 

Pep was an English bull terrier, sleek and 
clean cut. His white coat shone like satin 
and it was as soft as velvet. Well it might 
have shone, for the doctor’s man had been 

25 


26 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

washing and brushing the dog for weeks. 

Pep knew that the trip was momentous, 
but just where they were going, or what was 
up he could not have told. 

His master was usually calm and collected, 
but this morning, he was excited. The dog 
could feel it plainly. In fact he felt all the 
changes of temperament in his beloved mas- 
ter. If he was sad or glad the dog changed 
his own feelings to keep pace with his god. 

Pep was not as democratic as most ter- 
riers. He was quite particular about his 
friendships. There was but one person in 
the whole world whom he devotedly loved 
and that was the doctor. You could see this 
by the way he looked sideways at his master 
when he tired of the landscape. Also by 
the manner in which he met the advances of 
strangers on the train. 

Their destination was the New York 
Bench Show where Pep was to be entered. 
This was the momentous errand on which 
they were bent. 

Pep was the usual type of bull terrier, 
about sixteen inches at the shoulders and 
weighing nearly forty pounds. 


27 


A Blue Ribbon Dog 

His ears were cocked and pointed. Their 
backs had been shaved that very morning, 
and the pink blood coursed through them 
freely. 

The doctor was reading a newspaper and 
occasionally the dog would give it a poke 
, with his nose, to intimate that the man ought 
to stop and talk to him. 

The doctor and his wife had no children 
and they always referred to Pep as “the 
boy.’ J 

Arrived at the New York Central, Pep 
and his master took a taxi for Madison 
Square. Once they were fairly within this 
great arena, Pep thought it the most exciting 
place he had ever even dreamed of. 

Such a host of dogs he had not thought 
the world contained. There were large dogs 
and small dogs, short-haired dogs and long- 
haired dogs, excited dogs and complacent 
dogs, but most all were excited. A dog had 
to have a pretty good opinion of himself to 
keep his head in such a place as this. Such 
a chorus of yelping and barking, growling 
and whining greeted them as they walked 
down the main street that Pep did not know 


28 Pep : The Story of a Brave Dog 

whether to be joyous or angry. For the life 
of him he could not tell whether it was only 
just play, or the preliminary to a great fight. 

If the men did really loose all these dogs 
and they should fly at one another’s throats, 
he made up his mind that he would get a 
good hold on the throat of a bulldog who had 
growled at him as he passed, and not let go 
until the cross fellow had apologized. 

Presently they stopped before a man in a 
small booth, who asked a lot of tiresome 
questions about Pep. He wanted his age, 
weight, breeding and many more facts, 
which the master patiently gave him. 

Finally Pep was given a number, 223, and 
they passed along. 

They passed by St. Bernard street, New- 
foundland street, Collie street and finally 
down to the smaller dogs, until they came to 
the terriers, where they located permanently 
in Bull Terrier street. There were about 
forty dogs here, tied in a double row, with 
a broad walk between the rows. Here the 
master tied Pep in his own stall and told him 
to be a good dog, and went to look for some 
friends. 


29 


A Blue Ribbon Dog 

For the first five minutes the dogs in Bull 
Terrier street were very disrespectful to 
Pep and called him all the bad names in the 
dog dictionary, but seeing how goodnatured 
he was, they soon ceased their jollying and 
asked him where he came from, what his 
master’s name was, and what his name was. 
Presently he was on speaking terms with the 
dogs on either side of him. 

“It is a very fast class, Pep old boy,” 
said a sleek terrier across the street. “If 
the judge so much as looks at you you will 
be lucky.” 

“My master says I am a sure winner, but 
I am not saying anything about it.” 

“You’ve told each newcomer for the past 
two hours,” growled a savage looking bull 
terrier next to him. “If I could only slip 
my collar, I would fix you so that the judge 
would kick you out of the ring. You have 
got too many airs, my fine fellow.” At this 
harsh threat the dandy slunk back in his cor- 
ner and finally lay down and pretended he 
was asleep, but Pep knew he was just sham- 
ming. 

It seemed an eternity before his master 


80 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

reappeared, but he was not really gone more 
than an hour. When he came back he had 
another doctor with him, whom Pep knew 
well. He was the master of Pep’s friend, 
Larry, a clever Irish terrier, who had also 
come to the show. 

Presently there was great commotion in 
Bull Terrier street. Men came from every 
direction and unchained their dogs. Some 
put them on fancy show leashes, and they 
were led away to the show ring. 

Here there was another inquisitive man, 
who entered their names and numbers. Fi- 
nally the ring was nearly full of bull terriers, 
all excited and straining at their leashes. 
Each master was trying to make his dog hold 
up his head and look his prettiest. 

Pep’s master had been giving him lessons 
to stand for inspection on the leash so he 
stood like a drum major, with head up and 
his tail carried properly. The judge spotted 
him almost as soon as he came into the ring. 

He stopped short in his tracks at the sight 
of Pep and stood very still. The other dogs 
were straining at their leashes, but the judge 
did not see them. His eyes were all for Pep. 


31 


A Blue Ribbon Dog 

Finally lie lifted his eyes to the doctor’s face 
and winked at him knowingly. The doctor 
looked down quickly, but he gave Pep a con- 
fidential shove with his leg. 

Pep did not just understand this, but 
thought it a good omen. 

After that, the judge did not even glance 
at him, but went methodically about his 
work. One by one the dogs were led from 
the ring. Each one took his cue from the 
dejected manner of his master, so all went 
with tails drooping. Finally, there were 
only two left besides Pep. Then the judge 
stood these two dogs upon a little platform 
at the center of the ring and examined them 
carefully. Occasionally he would stop and 
glance across at Pep. 

Pep saw that his master was watching the 
judge intently so he did the same. When 
the judge looked his way he wagged his tail, 
for he felt sure that this was a man to be 
cultivated. 

Finally the judge got up with a deep sigh. 
“Take them both away,” he said shortly. 
“They are good dogs, but they are not in the 
class with this one,” and he came over and 


32 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

stroked Pep’s head. “ Here’s his blue rib- 
bon. Take him up to the free for all. It 
may not do any good, but I want to see him 
lined up against the old champion, Lord 
Lansdale. Somehow I can’t keep my eyes 
off him, but I presume he will look small 
enough beside the champion.” 

The doctor stooped down and hugged Pep 
and he was very happy. He felt sure that 
the man had liked him and that pleased his 
master. He loved to please his master above 
all else. 

So they went back to Bull Terrier street, 
Pep with his blue ribbon and his master 
looking very happy. There they received 
the congratulations of the surly dog who 
had threatened to chew the dandy’s throat if 
he could get at him, while the dandy sulked 
in his corner. 

“I liked you the first minute I saw you,” 
said the surly terrier, mellowing up and 
fairly smiling. “You don’t put on airs. I 
can’t stand airs in a dog. That is, unless he 
is a champion. ” 

“Wait till he goes up to meet the cham- 
pion,” whimpered the dandy. “He’ll come 


A Blue Ribbon Dog 33 

back with his tail between his legs, or I am 
a liar.” 

“You are a liar all right,” growled Pep’s 
new friend, “but he won’t come back with 
his tail between his legs. If he ’s licked he ’ll 
take it like a thoroughbred. If the other 
dog’s better than you are, admit it and don’t 
sulk as you are doing.” 

Here the conversation was interrupted by 
a call for the winners in each class to go up 
to the ring for the finals, so Pep went with 
his master and both were much excited. 

The judge did not so much as look at him 
when he entered the ring and poor Pep 
thought it was all up. He felt sorry for hi$ 
master, who, he at once saw, felt the slight. 

“Keep your head up, old chap,” whis- 
pered the master, and Pep looked as haughty 
as he could, copying the manner of the old 
champion who stood at the center of the 
platform, his eyes half shut, gazing off into 
space, just as though the whole show bored 
him to death and he would be glad when it 
was over. 

One by one the winners were placed on the 
platform by the champion but it needed only 


34 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

a glance at most of them and the judge said, 

‘ 4 Take ’em away.” Then master and dog 
would slink out of the ring. The last dog 
who went on before Pep lasted much longer 
than his predecessors had. The judge 
looked him over for several minutes and 
even held his head beside the champion’s be- 
fore pronouncing his doom. 

Then he turned about quickly. ‘ 4 Where’s 
the doctor’s dog?” he said. “He is the only 
dog in the show that can give the old cham- 
pion anything like a go. Bring him on.” 

Pep mounted to the platform much ex- 
cited, although he tried hard not to show it. 
The champion looked at him sleepily out of 
the corner of his eye. Pep thought his man- 
ner said, “So here’s another. Well, they 
will soon take him away.” 

The judge stepped back several feet and 
looked at them very hard, without saying a 
word. Then he scratched his head and said, 
“Well, I’ll be darned. I never expected to 
be up against it like this.” 

Then he went up and began feeling the two 
dogs over very carefully. He passed his 








“The judge examined them carefully.” 




35 


A Blue Ribbon Dog 

hand along their backs, and legs. He let 
their ears slip gently through his fingers. 
He lifted up their paws. Then put them 
down. 

Pep watched him from the corner of one 
eye. He could see that the judge was more 
and more worried. 

Then he stood off and looked at them 
again. He scratched his head and pulled his 
mustache, then came back and went all over 
the handling process once more. 

Finally he held a muzzle in either palm 
and laid their heads side by side. His hand 
trembled and Pep felt that he was much ex- 
cited. 

At last he stood up and heaved a deep sigh. 
“I am very sorry,’ ’ he said, and stooped 
down and stroked the old champion’s head. 

Poor Pep’s heart stood still. He felt as 
though the judge had struck him. He 
wanted to yelp with pain. He knew it 
would disappoint his master so, but the 
judge’s next words fairly stunned him. 

“Take away the old champion,” he said. 
“He is outclassed. This,” and he laid his 


36 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

hand caressingly on Pep’s head, “is the bet- 
ter dog. I never dreamed that I would live 
to see Lord Lansdale dethroned.” 

Then a great shouting went up around the 
ring. 

“Hurrah for Pepsin. Congratulations, 
doctor. Let me stroke him. Let me get in- 
side and feel him over. Bring him out, doc- 
tor, we want to take some photos of him for 
the press.” 

Pepsin was so astonished at all this fuss 
that at first he thought he had done some- 
thing bad and was to be punished, but when 
his master caught him up in his arms and 
hugged him joyously his happiness was 
complete. 

From that time on, as long as they stayed 
at the show, he was a much petted and flat- 
tered dog. 

If he had been a silly, vain dog, it would 
have turned his head, but he was a sensible 
fellow and he took it as a matter of course. 

The following day, when Pep and the doc- 
tor were having a fine time, walking about 
the great hall, along the main street, looking 
at the dogs, a boy in uniform with a blue cap 


A Blue Ribbon Dog 37 

came up to his master and gave him an 
envelope. 

Pep sat on his haunches and watched the 
doctor very closely while he looked at the 
piece of paper. Somehow he did not like 
these messengers with their pieces of paper. 
They always upset things. This one seemed 
to he even more disturbing than usual, for 
the doctor put the telegram hurriedly into 
his pocket and they started out of the build- 
ing not stopping to speak to any one. 

“It’s my call, Pep,” he said as they took 
a taxi for the Grand Central. “I’m off for 
the war, old chap .’ 2 


CHAPTER II 


THE RUNAWAY 

P EP’s master was very quiet all the way 
home and the wise dog knew intuitively 
that he was disturbed about something. He 
tried several times by rubbing against him, 
to get him to notice his “blue ribbon dog,” 
but after several futile attempts he settled 
down at his end of the seat and went to sleep 
with his muzzle on his master’s knee. He 
had often seen the doctor like this, when 
studying on some perplexing case, so he 
wisely left him to his thoughts. 

Occasionally he would wake up and look 
at him out of the corner of one eye, when he 
would find him studying the disturbing let- 
ter that the messenger boy had given him. 
It was not until they were almost home that 
the doctor aroused himself and took the dog 
into his confidence. 


38 


39 


The Runaway 

‘ 4 Pep, old boy,” he said, stroking his sleek 
sides, rubbing his nose, and pulling his ears 
gently in a way he loved, “we have got a 
hard task ahead of us. I don’t know what 
the mistress will say. We have expected it 
for weeks, but it will be a shock just the 
same. 

The motor was waiting for them at the 
station as the doctor had telegraphed ahead 
and they were soon whizzing through the 
darkness towards Pep’s kennel, which he 
considered the best spot on earth. 

“How did the mistress take it, Thomp- 
son?” asked the physician as they bowled 
along. “I did not say what was up, but I 
imagined she would guess. You know I had 
intended to stay the rest of the week.” 

“She knew right off. She is bearing up 
well, sir, but it is a great blow to us all. 
She’s a brave little woman, doctor, and won’t 
show the white feather.” 

The little woman referred to met them at 
the door. She had a warm embrace for the 
doctor, and a pat on the head for Pep, but 
she did not even notice the blue: ribbon, 
which showed how disturbed they were. 


40 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

“It's come at last, Betty,” said the doctor 
briefly as he removed his overcoat. He 
handed her the hateful telegram and stood 
watching as she read it. 

Pep watched both his mistress and master 
narrowly and his dog heart was troubled. 
For he noticed that his mistress shivered 
as she took the telegram. The little cry 
that escaped her as she read it, made him 
whimper and go to her, standing on his hind 
legs and putting his paws on her knees. 

She reached down and stroked his glossy 
head and a tear fell on his upturned 
muzzle. 

“I wouldn’t have you miss it for the world, 
John,” she finally managed to say. “It’s a 
man’s part and you are every inch a man, 
but it has come so suddenly.” 

“You are a brave woman, Betty,” the doc- 
tor returned chokingly. “I thank you for 
making it so easy for me. It is just as hard 
for me to go as it is for you to have me. 
There is little danger to a surgeon. I will 
come back all right. 

“Look at Pep, Betty. He wants you to 
see his blue ribbon. He is a blue ribbon dog 


41 


The Runaway 

now. He’ll take care of you while I am 
gone. Won’t you, old sport?” 

The mistress admired the trophy as much 
as Pep could have wished, but somehow it 
did not satisfy him. He knew instinctively 
the house was filled with tragedy and what 
was a blue ribbon more or less when such 
things were happening. 

For the next two hours every one hurried 
frantically to and fro ; such confusion Pep 
had never seen in the well-ordered house. 
The mistress would suffer no hands but her 
own to finally pack the doctor’s suit case. 

Others might hand things to her, but her 
hands must tuck them away for him. 

Pep followed disconsolately from room 
to room, keeping out of the way as well as he 
could. He finally took up his position by 
the front door and waited. This was the 
door through which his master always left 
when he went on important missions. He 
determined not to be left behind. If it made 
his mistress feel so badly to have master go 
away he would go with him, then she would 
know he would be safe. Of course all this 
packing meant his master was going away. 


42 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

He had seen it many times before, but why 
they hurried so, and why every one’s heart 
ached, he could not imagine. 

At last, everything was ready and Thomp- 
son and the motor were at the door. The 
doctor came into the office. Pep saw that 
his face was very white. The mistress came 
in also and stood close to him. Her face also 
was white and she was trembling. Neither 
spoke for several seconds. Then the doctor 
took her in his arms and held her tight for 
at least a minute. Then still without speak- 
ing, he set her gently down in the large easy 
chair and with a sudden motion, slipped out 
of the front door with his suit case. 

He went so suddenly that the cry of the 
mistress and the bang of the door sounded 
almost together. 

The closing door missed Pep’s muzzle by 
barely an inch. He leaped at it and whined 
frantically and whimpered as the motor 
rolled away. Then like the faithful com- 
panion and sympathetic friend that he was, 
leaped into his mistress’ lap to kiss away her 
tears and comfort her. 

She hugged him to her heart and poured 


43 


The Runaway 

out her grief in his sympathetic ears. Of 
course he did not know just what made her 
feel so badly, but he snuffled in unison with 
her and told her as plainly as a dog could 
that he felt just as badly as she did and that 
they were fellow sufferers. 

Finally, the mistress dried her eyes and 
went to straighten out the house. Pep lay 
down upon his favorite rug to think. He 
did not intend to submit tamely to being left 
behind in this unceremonious manner. 

He thought to such good advantage that 
when Thompson came back with the motor, 
he had fully made up his mind. When the 
chauffeur at last came in after putting up 
the car, Pep was waiting for him at the front 
door. 

He had his muzzle close to the crack so as 
to be ready. Thompson had barely opened 
the door and squeezed partly through, for he 
had been warned to look out for Pep, when 
the terrier shot between his legs and with a 
scurry of feet along the walk, he was gone 
into the darkness. A second later, he was 
out on the street running frantically for the 
depot. Thompson and the mistress whistled 


44 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

and shouted but he paid no attention to 
them, and they saw him disappear twenty 
rods away around a corner, running like the 
wind. 

“He’s gone after the doctor. The little 
cuss has gone to war,” cried Thompson. 
“What shall we do? The doctor told me 
half a dozen times to-night to keep an eye 
on him.” 

“Take the motor and follow to the station. 
He can’t go further than that.” So for the 
second time that night, the doctor’s machine 
whizzed away to the depot. 

Thompson had to put some gasoline in the 
car before he could follow, so Pep reached 
the depot five minutes ahead of the machine. 
Instead of finding the train puffing away on 
the tracks as he had expected, the rails were 
clear. His master had gone. He was too 
late. He sniffed frantically up and down 
the platform to find the scent but there was 
none that he could recognize. Then he re- 
membered the track. The two shining sticks 
that the train always ran upon. 

He knew which way his master had gone, 
the one way to New York. He looked up at 


45 


The Runaway 

the station platform and away into the dark- 
ness. Then Thompson and the motor 
whizzed up : That decided him. He turned 
his nose towards New York and galloped 
frantically down the track. 

Meanwhile the doctor sat in the smoking 
car chewing savagely on the end of his cigar, 
and looking gloomily out of the window. 
His home and his wife had hitherto been all 
and all to him. 

Now his country had called him. He 
found to his surprise that there had been all 
the time a deep sense of love of country 
lying dormant in his nature. A newsboy on 
the train was selling small silk flags. The 
doctor purchased one and placed it in his 
buttonhole. His fingers now fondled it 
lovingly as he mused. 

All that he loved here in the homeland was 
dropping further and further behind. This 
new strange passion for country was taking 
him far from home, wife, and friends, to 
what hardships and struggles he knew not. 
It did not matter though as long as he came 
through safe and sound. 

At this point in his reflections, a shiver 


46 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

ran through the train. At first it was only a 
tremor, but immediately it grew into a crash- 
ing, grating, grinding sound. The train 
buckled in the middle, raising three cars 
fairly from the track. Others swayed this 
way and that. 

There was the sound of breaking car 
floors, of shattered glass, and grinding car- 
frames. Together with the more frightful 
sound of the ripping of rails and the break- 
ing of ties, but shot through all these mighty 
sounds of destruction, was the frantic 
screams of women, and the hoarse cries of 
men, who fought and struggled as they felt 
themselves hurled to doom. 

It was only a broken axle that had caused 
all this destruction of life and property. So 
the superintendent’s report said a few days 
later. 

The car in which the doctor was riding 
fared better than many of the others and 
merely toppled on its side after being butted 
off the track. 

The physician was thrown across the isle, 
but not injured. Almost before the rest of 
the passengers knew what had happened 


The Runaway 47 

he was on his feet and breaking his way out 
through a window. Five minutes later, he 
was going from point to point attending the 
injured, organizing relief and giving what 
aid he could with the limited means at hand. 

Meanwhile, Pep was galloping frantically 
after the express train. He had not 
dreamed it was such a long way to New 
York. It had always seemed like a very 
short ride to him while sitting on a car seat 
looking out of the window. Surely the great 
snorting thing which drew the train had long 
legs and ran very fast. 

For an hour the terrier galloped at his 
best pace, but the straight and level way 
stretched on just as straight and unending 
as it had been when he started. By this 
time he was getting tired, so he slowed down 
and began to wonder if he should ever reach 
the great city where he had been so recently 
to the dog show. Perhaps he had not done 
right to come. He knew well that Thompson 
and his mistress had called him. He had 
heard them plainly. Perhaps his master 
would not even be glad to see him. Maybe 
he would rather he had remained at home 


48 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

to guard the place while he was gone. His 
thoughts were not probably quite as definite 
as this, but he began to have misgivings 
about running away. 

Now a bright light loomed up in the dis- 
tance. It was the train. No, it could not 
be. It was coming towards him. On it 
came like a terrible demon, rushing straight 
at him. He bolted down the embankment 
to safety just as the train swept by. It was 
on one of the other tracks and would not 
have harmed him, but it was just as well 
not to take any chances. He had seen a 
careless dog cut in two once at his home town 
station. 

Again Pep took to the rails and galloped 
on for another fifteen minutes. Then his 
patience was rewarded for he saw a light 
ahead. Not one but several. There were 
men running hurriedly about. The train 
had stopped. 

It must be the doctor’s train for it was on 
the right track. He would find his beloved 
master soon. 

Almost the first person that Pep saw as 
he galloped up to the wreck was the doctor. 


The Runaway 49 

He was kneeling beside a man lying on the 
ground. The man was groaning and the 
physician was doing something for him. 
Pep was a doctor’s dog and quite well versed 
in the ways of doctors. He had often sat on 
his favorite rug in the office during a serious 
consultation. He did not notice that his 
master was trying to replace a dislocated 
shoulder, or he never would have jumped 
and pulled his coat tail as he did. To the 
doctor at this critical time, all dogs were 
alike. So without even looking around, he 
kicked at the intruder who was disturbing 
his work. 

The kick though slight, caught Pep under 
the jaw and made him yelp, but it hurt his 
feelings mightily. Here he had nearly run 
his legs off to catch up with the train and 
his master did not even look around when he 
barked. Also an unheard of thing had hap- 
pened, he had kicked him. So he retired to 
the edge of the circle of light that sur- 
rounded the wreck and sat on his haunches 
watching the doctor work. 

Presently the shoulder snapped back into 
place and the surgeon passed on to other un- 


50 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

fortunates. Pep followed at a distance, al- 
ways keeping on the rim of light at the edge 
of the darkness. For half an hour he 
dodged about, keeping himself half in the 
shadow watching, then a wrecking train 
came up and a score of doctors and nurses 
descended. 

At about the same time, the forward part 
of the wrecked train, which had not left the 
rails, was made ready for completing the 
run to New York. 

The conductor went up and down calling 
for every one to get aboard. With genuine 
alarm, Pep saw his master climb into the 
car nearest the engine, but he did not dare 
to follow him. He was probably very angry 
and would not like to see him at all. 

He saw the conductor wave his arm at the 
engineer who was leaning out of the cab win- 
dow, then the locomotive began to puff and 
the train to move. 

While two cars went past him Pep stood 
uncertain, then with a scramble and a glad 
bark he sprang upon the rear platform of 
the third and last car. He went with such 
a rush that he nearly slid off on the other 


51 


The Runaway 

side, but he finally gained his footing, and 
crouched down beside the door. 

Presently the train got up speed. The 
car swayed from side to side and he slipped 
and slid on the smooth floor. The train also 
made a great noise, which terrified him. 

He was lonesome also, as there was no 
one to notice him out there alone in the dark. 
There certainly was a difference between 
traveling in a warm coach with one’s master, 
and slipping and sliding about on the rear 
platform, stealing a ride like an ordinary 
tramp. 

After about half an hour, which seemed 
much longer to Pep, the train entered the 
long, dark underground passage which he 
had always noticed just before they reached 
the great city. They were almost there. 

When the train at last stopped, Pep slid 
down from his platform and ran along 
towards the engine, but his master was too 
quick for him. When he reached the car 
where he had seen him enter, he was walking 
rapidly down the platform, almost running 
in fact. A taxi driver was carrying his mas- 
ter ’s suit case and they seemed much excited. 


52 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

The official at the gate saw they were in a 
great hurry so did not detain them and Pep 
slipped through between his legs, while he 
was looking at the ticket of a passenger 
who was just entering. 

Pep had all he could do to keep his mas- 
ter’s legs in sight and not confuse them 
with some other man’s legs. To him the 
place was all legs ; legs and skirts hurrying 
this way and that. Electric gongs were 
ringing, men and women were calling to one 
another, the megaphone man was shouting 
out the trains, and engines were thundering 
in the train sheds. 

“ We’ve got just forty minutes to make the 
boat,” said Pep’s master as he scrambled 
into the taxi and the driver hurled the suit 
case in after him. 

“Can you make itV 1 

The man’s reply was lost by the slamming 
of the door, but he sprang into the driver’s 
seat and the motor started. 

Pep had not been allowed to follow the 
doctor’s car at home, but this was different. 
His master had gone off and left him. He 


The Runaway 53 

had not dared even make himself known. 
For a second he hesitated, then fell in behind 
the motor and began a wild race for the 
wharf. 

Such a bedlam he had not even dreamed of 
as that which filled his ears, once they were 
fairly out on Broadway. Machines whizzed 
by at every rod. He kept close to the taxi 
so as not be run down by some passing ma- 
chine. Several times the taxi almost 
stopped and once the doctor shouted to the 
driver that they must hurry. Out and in 
they twisted, breaking many traffic rules, but 
always making sure and steady progress 
towards the wharf. At last they whizzed 
down into the great noisy thoroughfare 
leading to the waterway. Finally, the 
machine stopped. The driver snatched the 
suitcase and the doctor fairly ran after him 
as they hurried towards a strong gate that 
was constantly opening and closing with a 
loud bang. 

Even before they reached it, Pep made up 
his mind that if his master got through with- 
out seeing him, he would lose him. So as 


54 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

the gate opened, he sprang upon the physi- 
cian with a glad bark. The doctor turned 
and looked down at him. 

Then Pep leaped full in his arms and 
planted a dog kiss on his cheek. 

4 ‘For Heaven’s sake, Pep,” exclaimed the 
astonished physician. “Is that you? 
Where in the world did you drop from? I 
must find some one to take you back home.” 

“You’ll have to hurry, mister,” shouted 
the taxi driver. 

“What can I do with this dog?” cried the 
perplexed physician. “I don’t know how 
he ever got here, but I can’t leave him 
alone.” 1 

“You are going to miss the boat. You 
can’t wait another minute.” 

“Take him along. You can ship him 
back on the boat, or find some one to take 
care of him on the other side.” 

Pep stood on his hind legs looking up into 
his master’s face. The doctor was dazed 
and uncertain. The taxi man shouted again. 

“I tell you the boat will sail in just one 
minute. Take him along, or miss the boat. ’ ’ 

“All right, old pal. It’s us for Europe.” 


55 


The Runaway 

With these words, the doctor stooped down 
and gathered Pep up in his arms partially 
covering him with his overcoat to shield him 
from fussy officials, and followed the ex- 
cited taxi driver into the elevator. Up they 
shot, and then along the gangplanks to the 
great floating palace which was to be Pep’s 
home for the next ten days. 

About ten seconds later the tug began 
straining at the hawser working the great 
boat out of her slip. The adventure had 
fairly begun. Dog and master were upon 
their way across the Atlantic to take part in 
the great struggle against the Hun. 


CHAPTER III 


THE CROSSING 

N OTICING that several of the ship’s 
officers whom they passed eyed Pep 
askance, the doctor singled out the most 
affable looking one and went straight to the 
point. 

“What about dogs?’ 3 he asked. “My 
dog followed me to the very gangplank and 
I had to bring him along or miss the boat. 
He is a very valuable dog. I wouldn’t have 
anything happen to him for the world. He 
is a blue ribbon dog.” 

The officer looked at the dog doubtfully. 
“If you really value him,” he said, “you 
had better not let the first mate see him. He 
is death on dogs. Why, the last trip across 
he had four thrown overboard. They were 
pets of wounded soldiers, too. It made the 

56 


The Crossing 57 

crew as mad as March hares. There wasn’t 
any sense in it, either.’ ’ 

At this the doctor looked troubled, but he 
was a diplomat and a man of quick action. 
He knew there was many a way of circum- 
venting unjust regulations like this. 

“Here is a five-dollar bill,” he said, slip- 
ping the greenback into the hand of the of- 
ficer. “You introduce me to the official 
who is the most of a dog lover.” 

“That’s the old man,” said the official 
doubtfully. “I wouldn’t dare to approach 
him, but you might appeal to him if the 
worst came. He is the captain of the ship, 
but we call him the old man. The head 
steward keeps a little dog in his cabin. 
Perhaps he might accommodate you.” 

So they went to the chief steward’s cabin, 
where they found that necessary official 
swearing at his associates. 

“Another dog,” he snorted, when the 
proposition had been put up to him. 4 4 W ell, 
I guess not. Ginger worries me nearly to 
death.” 

4 4 He is a blue ribbon dog,” explained the 
doctor. 4 4 They would keep each other com- 


58 Pep: The Story of a Brave Bog 

pany. Take a look at him.’ ’ He held Pep 
up for inspection. 

The steward gave Pep a hurried glance, 
then came nearer to get a better view. He 
stroked his sleek head and tweaked his ears 
fondly. 

4 4 The very picture of my old Sally. Why 
I sailed fifteen years with that dog. She 
was better company than half the folks. 
Why, yes, I can make a place for him. 
Here, Ginger, come here and take a sniff at 
your shipmate.’ ’ 

The doctor set Pep down on the floor and 
the small black and tan dog approached 
gingerly as suited his name, but Pep gave 
him just one disdainful glance then looked 
the other way. 

4 4 They ’ll be all right when they get ac- 
quainted,” said the doctor. 4 4 You see Pep 
is rather exclusive.” 

Finally the dogs touched noses and were 
friends. Pep was given an old souwester 
to lie upon and the steward promised to keep 
ani eye on him while the doctor went to look 
for his cabin. 

Although the doctor visited Pep twice 


The Crossing 59 

that evening and he seemed snug and com- 
fortable, yet he could not forget the horrible 
picture of the first mate’s having the pets of 
the wounded soldiers thrown overboard, so 
he determined to have it out with the old 
man as they called him the very next day. 

All that night the great ship plowed her 
way through the darkness. Her lights were 
all out, but half a mile to the north and half 
a mile to the south a long rakish torpedo 
boat ran parallel with her. These were her 
escort. No one knew at what moment a sub- 
marine might appear, so every precaution 
was taken against those devils of the deep. 

The following morning was bright and 
beautiful, with a stiff wind blowing at the 
ship’s bow. Every one was in the best of 
spirits and all danger was forgotten. 

In the middle of the forenoon the doctor 
discovered the ship’s captain standing near 
the wheel. He had been talking with the 
man at the wheel, but he was not busy then. 
The moment seemed auspicious and the doc- 
tor approached him without delay. 

“Sir,” he said, saluting. “I understand 
you like dogs.’ ? 


60 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

The captain was a man of sixty, but he 
looked much older. His face was wrinkled 
and weatherbeaten, but a smile shone 
through his weatherstained visage. 

“Who told you that?” he asked. “It 
wasn’t the first mate.” 

“No, sir,” returned the doctor. “It 
wasn’t the first mate, but you do like dogs.” 

“Bather,” said the captain, looking off 
across the broad expanse of blue rolling sea. 

“Would you like to see the champion of 
the recent New York dog show? He is a 
gentleman. An English bull terrier.’^ 

“There isn’t any such animal aboard,’ 15 re- 
turned the captain. 

“Yes, there is,” replied the doctor. “If 
you have a few minutes, come with me and 
I will show him to you.” 

The captain followed, incredulous and ex- 
cited. If there really was a blue ribbon 
English bull terrier aboard, he wanted to 
know it. It would never do to risk such a 
prize with his present mate, the dog hater. 

They found Pep waiting for them and 
straining at his leash. The doctor picked 
him up that the captain might better admire 


61 


him. For several seconds he looked him 
over in silence, then put out his hand and 
stroked his sleek head. 

“He’s a blue ribbon dog sure enough, ,J 
he said at last. “I’ll speak to the mate 
about him. We don’t want him swimming 
for his life in the Atlantic. That mate is a 
strange man. There is something wrong 
about him, but he is a good officer. Pep is 
to be a regular passenger with all the priv- 
ileges of the ship, sir.” 

Pep became a prime favorite with sev- 
eral of the passengers, once he was permitted 
to come out of hiding. Although the first 
mate glowered at him and muttered omi- 
nously, he did not dare lay hands on him 
since the old man had said he was a regular 
passenger, with all the privileges of the ship. 

One little girl in particular, Hilda Con- 
verse, the daughter of an importer who was 
going across in the interests of his firm, 
fairly worshiped Pep. Hilda had just lost 
her mother and that was why her father 
was taking her with him under such danger- 
ous circumstances. 

Hilda and Pep were inseparable, once she 


62 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

had found her way to his warm dog heart. 

The morning of the fifth day out dawned 
dark and stormy. The wind had kicked up 
a great sea and the mighty swells rolled 
mountain high. 

Finally the wind increased to the dimen- 
sions of a hurricane, and all but the most 
hardy sought their cabins. The doctor, 
however, liked to stay out in the open where 
he could watch the storm. The winds fairly 
shrieked in the rigging and about the tall 
smokestacks. The sea hissed and seethed, 
and the winds whipped it and beat upon it, 
until the air was filled with flying spray. 
Finally such a yeast was kicked up that one 
could gather hands full of the feathery foam 
from the air. Sky and water seemed to 
meet, and the mighty ship and its human 
freight were at the very heart of this terrible 
storm. So far as they could see or feel this 
was all there was to the world— a world of 
wind and foam, all turbulence and frightful- 
ness. One of the ship’s boats was broken 
loose by a mighty sea and swept away. It 
rose upon the top of a great swell, then sank 
into the trough and was seen no more. 


63 


The Crossing 

The doctor watched the ship’s crew nar- 
rowly as they worked. They worked like 
soldiers, each doing his part with dispatch 
and decision. The captain stood on the 
bridge, the master mind. The ship, the 
crew, all obeyed him implicitly. He was 
the will of the ship, and an iron will at that. 

Finally the fury of the storm spent itself 
and the skies cleared, but the effect of the 
hurricane was still manifest in the sea. 
Great foam-covered swells rolled by, many 
of them breaking over the lower deck. But 
they were rhythmic and one always knew 
when to expect the next one. This was all 
right as long as the waves ran at the regu- 
lation height, but the combers were quite dif- 
ferent. In them is an element of danger 
that no seamanship can guard against, no 
matter how skillful it may be. 

A comber is a wave twice or three times 
as high as its fellows. It is the king of 
waves, riding head and shoulders above its 
fellows, and often carrying death and de- 
struction in its wake. Combers sixty feet 
high have been observed by trustworthy 
witnesses. 


64 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

The ship had experienced several combers 
about five o’clock, none of which did any 
damage, although they drenched the lower 
deck and sent hogsheads of water into the 
cabin. The sun had come out and many of 
the passengers had reappeared on deck. 
Little Hilda had gone down into the steer- 
age to visit another girl with whom she had 
become acquainted. They were standing by 
the rail chattering away excitedly about the 
storm, when the father of all combers reared 
its foam-covered crest close to the ship. 
The ship’s officers had seen it coming, but 
had not appreciated how tall it was, because 
the seas were running so high. It struck the 
side of the ship with a noise like heaviest 
thunder and submerged the lower deck three 
feet deep with hissing water. It fairly 
covered the two little girls, but would have 
done no special harm had not the return 
impulse of the wave picked Hilda up and 
carried her over the rail into the boiling sea. 

The doctor and the second mate, who were 
standing on the hurricane deck, saw the 
frightful accident and gave the alarm. Al- 
though the sea was still running mountains 


65 


The Crossing 

high, and it was doubtful if a boat could 
live in it, yet a crew sprang to the nearest 
lifeboat and began slowly lowering it. 

The doctor strained bis eyes to see if 
Hilda came up on the crest of the next wave, 
for she bad immediately disappeared in the 
trough. To bis great joy the red dress ap- 
peared on the very crest. 

“My God!” cried the mate, “there she is.” 
If there was only something or somebody to 
keep her afloat until the boat could reach 
her, hut no man could swim in that sea. 

Pep was whimpering at his master’s legs, 
trying to climb up that he might see over the 
rail. He knew instinctively that something 
terrible had happened, he read his master’s 
thought like an open book. 

His sharp yelp of excitement called the 
doctor’s attention to him. The surgeon 
stooped down and lifted him to the rail and 
in that moment a sudden inspiration came 
to him. “Pep, see Hilda. Bring Hilda.” 

One of the tricks the doctor had taught 
him was to retrieve and now the accomplish- 
ment stood them all in good stead. 

Could he reach the girl ? Should he send 


66 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

him? The chance looked slim, but in his 
profession human life was always set above 
animal life. So he repeated, 4 4 Look, Pep. 
Hilda, bring. ’ ’ With these words, he raised 
the dog above the rail and pitched him into 
the raging sea. 

It was a good fifty feet down to the water, 
but the dog landed right side up and did not 
seem to mind the plunge, for he began swim- 
ming directly towards the girl whom he had 
recognized from his perch on the rail. 

The minute following was a tense one for 
all concerned. There was the raging sea on 
one hand, trying to suck up the little human 
life, and there was the brave dog and the boat 
battling for her life. 

A great shout went up from the ship as 
Pep reached his playmate and fastened his 
teeth firmly in her dress. The first part of 
the battle against the elements had been won. 
Could the faithful dog hold on till the boat 
reached them? 

All held their breath as the dog struggled 
to keep his place above the wave while the 
lifeboat fought its way toward them. Could 
they hold out? Would the boat be able to 


% 



“Pep reached his playmate and fastened his teeth 

firmly in her dress.” 



































































































- 



















































■ 

1 | HI mt jj 9 : , S. - • . 





67 


The Crossing 

reach them? These were the questions on 
all lips. The minute seemed like an hour, 
so tense it was. But all minutes come to an 
end, and this one did, with glorious victory. 

Not victory for the sea, but victory for 
the dog and the boat. For at last the watch- 
ers saw the boat reach them and the strong 
arm of a sailor reach out and drag them both 
to safety. Then they fought their way back 
to the ship while the passengers cheered 
themselves hoarse. 

Hilda was unconscious when they placed 
her in her father’s arms, and Pep was so 
weak he could hardly stand, but his eye was 
full of fight and he could still wag his tail in 
appreciation of the petting he received. 

A warm bed and a restorative soon set 
Hilda right, and Pep only needed rest. But 
he had gained his place among the crew and 
the passengers as a hero. If he had not been 
a sensible dog, they would have spoiled him 
with petting during the remainder of the 
trip. 

Four days later the ship came close to the 
Irish coast and precautions were redoubled. 
This was the submarine zone and no one 


68 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

knew at what moment those devils of the 
deep might appear. 

It was nearly midnight. The ship was 
creeping along through the darkness with all 
lights out, closely guarded by two torpedo 
boats. The doctor was sleeping soundly in 
his bunk and Pep was dreaming of home in 
the cook’s cabin, when there came a mighty 
explosion which shook the great ship from 
bow to stern. There had been no warning. 
It had come like a sudden clap of thunder, 
but every one knew instinctively that they 
had been struck by a torpedo. 

Immediately all was confusion. Passen- 
gers came hurriedly on deck, dressing as 
they came. For a few seconds two power- 
ful searchlights played upon the water about 
the ship to discover the submarine if possi- 
ble, and the guns at the bow and the stern 
were made ready for instant action, but the 
murderous devilfish had departed as sud- 
denly as it had appeared. 

The ship was listing badly and the hole 
was fast filling, so the boats were made 
ready. The doctor did not know whether he 
would be allowed to take Pep with him or 


The Crossing 69 

not, but be went to the cook’s cabin for the 
dog. 

The crew worked silently and like sol- 
diers. So rapidly they performed their 
tasks that when the doctor reappeared with 
Pep the first boat load was pulling away 
from the ship. Soon the doctor’s unit was 
called and he went around to the other side 
of the ship where a boat was already nearly 
loaded. 

“Can I take the dog with me?” asked the 
doctor doubtfully as he reached the rail. A 
ship’s officer stood at the rail with drawn 
revolver. 

“Not by a damnsight,” he growled. 
“Look at that boat.” 

The doctor looked. The lifeboat was 
crowded to the gunwale. 

“Hurry,” commanded the officer. “The 
boat is waiting.” 

“But what shall I do with my dog?” 
pleaded the doctor, though he saw that Pep’s 
case was hopeless. 

“Hurry, I tell you. It’s no time to be 
haggling about the life of a dog. Get in or 
I will give the signal for the boat to pull off. ’ ’ 


70 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

“All right, ’’ said the doctor. “Give it. 
I can’t leave Pep.” 

“Here, here, doctor,” growled a stern 
visaged colonel coming up behind them. 
“You are under military orders. Get into 
that boat. Give the dog to me.” He 
snatched the growling dog from his master’s 
arms and threw him upon the deck and 
then fairly shoved the doctor over the rail 
and down into the boat. 

The doctor heard a dismal howl from Pep 
as he was left behind and then he felt the 
boat lowering towards the water. 

“Officer,” he called to the man at the rail, 
“Shoot the dog. I can’t leave him in that 
way.” But instead of shooting him, the of- 
ficer kicked at Pep who was trying desper- 
ately to climb over the rail. 

The doctor sat huddled in the corner of 
the lifeboat, his head in his hands as they 
pulled away from the ship. 

It seemed strange to the other passengers 
that with death all around them a strong 
man should feel so deeply the loss of a dog, 
but only dog lovers understand these things. 
No one but a dog lover knows the comfort of 


The Crossing 71 

that soft tongue on your cheek, or the muzzle 
in your hand. 

Presently the doctor was aroused from his 
grief by a wild yelp. He looked back to- 
wards the ship and in the darkness he could 
just see Pep balancing himself on the rail, 
and a second later he sprang into the sea. 

At the sight, hope welled up in the phy- 
sician’s heart. If it was not more than five 
miles to the shore, perhaps the dog could 
swim. Soon the white head appeared close 
to the boat and the dog whimpered to be 
taken aboard, but his master could not even 
do that much for him. The law of the ship 
was like the laws of the Persians, irrevo- 
cable, but he talked to Pep and encouraged 
him as he swam behind. 

Half an hour passed and the dog swam 
steadily. They must have covered two 
miles. Another half hour went by and Pep 
began to weaken and to lag behind. Occa- 
sionally he stopped to tread water. 

The doctor’s heart sank within him, it was 
going to be a losing fight for brave Pep after 
all. But at this point the boat stopped to 
determine if possible their direction and by 


72 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

a mighty effort Pep regained the gunwale. 
Then a bright idea came to the doctor and he 
cursed his stupidity for not having thought 
of it before. He unlaced his shoes and tied 
the strings together. Then he coaxed Pep 
close to the boat and tied the shoestring in 
his collar. With that done he breathed a 
great sigh of relief. The dog was now as 
safe as the rest of them. If the boat made 
shore, he would. 

Two hours later the lifeboat grounded on 
the beach and the physician dragged his 
nearly senseless bull terrier after him to the 
shore. 

He was quite spent, but could still wag his 
tail and lick his master’s hands, and the doc- 
tor knew that rest was all he needed. 

“Good stuff, old pal,” he said, tweaking 
the dog’s ears as he set him down on the 
beach. “It takes more than a submarine to 
put you and me out of commission. We will 
get even with the Boche for this.” 

To which Pep responded with a sigh of 
deep satisfaction. 


CHAPTER iy 


THE HOSPITAL 

P EP and his master were finally assigned 
to duty in the great hospital at Brest 
and life went on there quite to the dog’s 
liking. 

The hospital was composed of a number 
of long, low buildings, all cool, clean, and 
quiet. There were so many buildings and 
wards for different ailments that Pep won- 
dered how his master could ever remember 
where all his patients were. When the doc- 
tor was too busy to have him around, Pep 
spent his time in the dispensary, where he 
was a prime favorite with Captain Everts, 
who had charge of this important portion of 
the hospital. The captain was also a doctor, 
so sometimes his friends called him “Hoc” 
and sometimes “Cap,” but all were very 
respectful. 


74 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

There was a fine soft rug under a great 
table and here Pep would lie for hours 
watching the doctors and nurses come and 
go. Some of them spoke to him and some 
did not. For some of them he would grin 
and wag his tail, but the majority he hardly 
deigned to notice. 

He usually went with the doctor for his 
morning rounds through the wards. He 
would follow sedately at his master’s heels 
from ward to ward. 

When his master stopped to examine a 
patient, Pep stopped and watched proceed- 
ings narrowly. There were several things 
that he noticed his master always did. 
First he would say “Good morning” and 
“How are you this fine day?” The doctor 
always said that no matter if it was raining 
buckets full, and it was either raining or 
cloudy most of the time. 

Then the doctor would go to the paper 
which they called a chart at the head of the 
bed and study it intently. Pep could 
usually tell whether or not his master was 
pleased with what he saw on the chart. 

When he was not pleased, the doctor 


75 


The Hospital 

would take out his watch and hold the man’s 
wrist. He would also sometimes look at 
the patient’s tongue, but usually the surgeon 
spent his time putting on bandages, chang- 
ing dressings, and doing other needful 
things for the poor wounded soldiers. 

Some of the men would speak to Pep and 
for some of them he would stand on his hind 
legs and let them stroke his head. If he 
liked the soldier, he would lick his hand. 
So it happened that many of the soldiers 
came to look for Pep’s morning visit as 
much as they did for the doctor’s. 

He would often visit at the convalescents’ 
ward on his own account. There the men 
were up walking around, or sitting in chairs. 
Usually they would be playing cards, read- 
ing, or writing letters home. 

They often took Pep into their confidence 
and told him about their sweethearts at 
home, or that he reminded them of a dog 
they once knew. Several of the soldiers in 
this ward became very fond of Pep and he 
of them. He would allow himself to be 
stroked and petted a great deal by his favor- 
ites. He felt in some way that it helped the 


76 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

soldiers to pet him. He knew that he and 
his master were here to help the soldiers, 
so he would gladly sacrifice his dignity in 
the good cause. 

He would sit gravely listening for half an 
hour at a time while the soldiers talked ex- 
citedly about the battles they had been in. 
He noted that their faces always grew grave 
or angry when they mentioned the word 
Boche. So he finally decided in his dog way, 
which was not quite clear as to the reasons 
why, that Boche meant something bad. It 
was probably the enemy, the thing that they 
were all out here to fight. 

Finally one of the men who was fond of 
dogs and had a trick dog at home taught Pep 
to growl at the mention of the Boche, and 
this accomplishment greatly pleased the 
soldiers. 

Every two or three days the activities at 
the hospital would be doubled and then Pep 
would often hear the word battle. That 
meant that the number of ambulances arriv- 
ing that day would be greatly increased. At 
such times he was always out in the great 
quadrangle before the main building watch- 


77 


The Hospital 

ing the ambulances come and go, and the 
nurses and doctors unload the wounded men. 
It was a serious time. No one laughed or 
joked here as they did in the dispensary. 
At such times his master would not even 
notice him when he rubbed against his leg 
to attract his attention. 

Pep slept on his fine rug under the table 
in the dispensary. Some one was always on 
duty, and nurses were coming and going all 
night. In fact, the hospital was almost as 
busy during the night as it was in the day 
time. 

One night when he had been there about 
three weeks he was awakened by the most 
terrible thunderstorm that he had ever 
heard, or at least that was what he thought 
it. The thunder claps came one after an- 
other in quick succession. Only they were 
much more staccato than thunder, more like 
giant firecrackers. Nurses and doctors 
were hurrying to and fro, and the orderly 
hospital was turned into pandemonium. 

Pep came hurriedly out of his place of 
hiding under the table to discover what was 
the matter, and soon heard the word Boche. 


78 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

Every one was so angry that he decided the 
Boche must have something to do with the 
thunderstorm, but just what he could not 
imagine. 

He was trotting about after the captain 
growling softly to himself when a thunder- 
bolt much louder than the rest exploded 
right in their midst. Pep heard the sound 
of breaking glass all about him. Some of 
the pieces stuck in his skin and the air was 
filled with a pungent liquid that drenched 
Pep’s back. 

He growled savagely, but his growls 
changed to yelps when the liquid began eat- 
ing into his skin. With yelps of pain he 
fled from the dispensary, out into the open 
air. This did not help much, however, as 
the liquid still burned fiercely. All was ex- 
citement outside. The thunder had ceased 
but broken glass was everywhere, while in 
many places there were bricks and timbers 
and splintered boards thrown about in every 
direction. 

Finally an orderly noticed Pep’s distress 
and examined him. He brought ointment 
and rubbed the dog’s back till the burning 


79 


The Hospital 

almost ceased. But in the morning it was 
seen that he had lost a large patch of hair 
just back of his shoulders. This was his 
first wound at the hands of the Boche, but 
not his last. 

The terrible thunderstorm which Pep had 
been through was a Boche bombing expedi- 
tion which had the base hospital as its mark. 

So Pep learned that there were devils in 
the deep and devils in the sky, and he knew 
from what was said about them that they 
were all Boches. 

After that night he growled louder than 
ever at the word Boche. 

One day about a week after the night 
bombing expedition Pep’s master came into 
the dispensary. Pep was lying under the 
table on his favorite rug, asleep, but he 
aroused himself at the familiar step. 

4 4 Hello, old sport,’* said the physician, 
tossing a stick of cinnamon candy under the 
table to the dog. 

Pep was very fond of candy, especially of 
cinnamon. His master, who was something 
of a joker, said it was because of the bark 
in it. The terrier wagged his tail in appre- 


80 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

ciation, swallowed the candy after two or 
three crunches and came out to greet his 
master. 

The doctor sat down heavily in the easy 
chair by the table and motioned for Pep 
to come up into his lap. This was a priv- 
ilege for special occasions and the dog com- 
plied with alacrity. 

The doctor looked about the room wearily. 
He had just come off duty after eighteen 
hours, and was very tired. The large room 
was nearly empty, the only other occupant 
being a young man who sat at a typewriter 
clicking away for dear life at the other end 
of the room. 

“It’s just you and I, Pep, 1 ” said the man, 
running the dog’s silky ears through his 
fingers in a way the terrier loved. “We can 
have a good visit, Pep. I’m lonesome, old 
chap. I want you to comfort me. I am 
thinking of the dear old home and the mis- 
tress. What do you suppose the little 
woman is doing to-day? I’ll bet you an- 
other stick of candy against three wags of 
your tail that she is thinking of us. I am 
sure of that, old sport.” 


81 


The Hospital 

The dog took the proffered candy gingerly 
in his teeth and then dropped it disdainfully 
on the floor. His master was incredulous, 
so stooped and picked up the candy and 
offered it again. Pep was usually ravenous 
for candy but he again dropped it on the 
floor, then sat up very straight and looked 
hard into his master’s face. His ears were 
cocked. His expression was inquiring. 
There was something afoot, something in the 
wind that he did not like. No candy for him 
until his master smiled, or looked more 
cheerful. 

The look that the dog fastened on his face 
was so intent that the master’s gaze fell be- 
fore that of his inquisitor. He pulled the 
dog’s ear to distract him. But he would 
not be distracted. Instead, he put his paws 
on the man’s shoulders, and looked fairly 
into his face. The man stooped down and 
kissed him on the top of the head. 

“You are all I have to kiss now, Pep,” he 
said. “I’d rather kiss you than some folks. 
I’m thinking of home, old chap.’” 

The dog heaved a deep sigh. He knew 
that his master was sad and he was a sort of 


82 Pep : The Story of a Brave Dog 

aeolian harp that always responded to his 
master’s moods with sympathetic chords. 

‘ 6 Pep,” said the doctor sternly, “sit down 
in my lap and listen. I want to talk to you. 
I am going away.” 

The dog sat on his haunches in the man’s 
lap and listened intently, his head on one 
side as though to catch each word, a sad, 
wistful look on his face. 

The doctor had sometimes used that tone 
to him before when he was going away to 
New York for several days. Then it had 
meant loneliness and dog heartache, so Pep 
was rightfully depressed. 

“I’m going away, Pep. It is to the front. 
I am going where the wounded men come 
from and you must be a good dog and stay 
here and not run away. Do you under- 
stand? You must be a good dog.” 

Pep knew the tone was that of reproof and 
admonishment, so he dropped his ears and 
looked very meek. 

“The last time I left you, you ran away 
and made me lots of trouble. This time you 
must be good.’ J 


The Hospital 83 

The dog wagged his tail and whimpered. 
He would be good. 

The doctor felt of his collar. It was very 
heavy and studded with brass rivets. “It’s 
strong enough,” he said. “You can’t break 
that.” j Then he tried it to see if he could 
slip it over Pep ’s head. It was rather loose, 
so for luck he took it up a hole. “ There, 
now I’ll get a good strong chain and I guess 
you’ll be all right. Of course you’ll be lone- 
some and make a great fuss, but these are 
hard times for us all, and you will have to be 
a good soldier like the rest of us.” 

Pep had seen the doctor try his collar be- 
fore when he was to be tied up. His free- 
dom was very dear to him. He loved to 
roam about the hospital. They were going 
to tie him up. He crawled up and licked 
his master’s face eagerly and pleaded in his 
dog way. 

‘ 4 It isn ’t any use, old chap. You have got 
to be tied up.”' 

Sadly the terrier sank down in his mas- 
ter’s lap, a look of utter dejection on his 
face. 


84 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

The doctor laughed. “It isn’t as bad as 
that, old sport. If I come back we’ll have 
good times yet. If I don’t, I’ll tell them to 
send you home to the mistress. If I don’t 
come back, you take good care of the mis- 
tress. 

“Here come my orders, old chum,” said 
the physician, giving Pep a final hug as an 
orderly came in and put a telegram in the 
surgeon’s hand. The doctor read the letter 
hurriedly and put it into his pocket. 

He then brought a heavy dog chain and 
snapped it into Pep’s collar and led him out 
of the dispensary to a storeroom where he 
sometimes slept at night. He fastened the 
chain securely to a staple in the wall and 
after giving Pep a parting hug, departed 
hurriedly, unmindful of his whimpers and 
angry barks. Half an hour later the doctor 
was on a train speeding away to the front, 
while Pep sulked dolefully in the storeroom. 

Pep seemed to know instinctively that his 
master had gone for a long time. The doc- 
tor had left him several times before for half 
a day since they had been in France, but 
now it was different. That long confidential 


85 


The Hospital 

talk in the dispensary and the affectionate 
hugs and lavish petting foretold to his dog 
mind a long separation. 

That night Pep howled so persistently 
that his friend, the Captain, finally came 
into the storeroom and gave him a sound 
thrashing. After this he was silent except 
for occasional half stifled whimpers and 
sobs of grief. But though he seemed to take 
his hard fate stoically, he was not recon- 
ciled. 

The Captain led him each day on the leash 
into the dispensary and chained him to the 
leg of the table. He watched the movements 
of every one who came in and if any one 
spoke to him he at once told them in as plain 
language as a dog could use to unsnap his 
chain and let him go. But the Captain 
warned each new-comer that Pep was to he 
kept strictly on the chain until his master’s 
return. 

In the daytime he was not so lonesome or 
unconsolable, but in the night he often lay 
awake whimpering for his master or work- 
ing at his chain and collar trying to get loose. 
He would spend hours tugging at the chain, 


86 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

pulling at the staple with his teeth, or trying 
to get at his collar, until he lay down ut- 
terly exhausted. 

So it fared with Pep for two weeks, until 
finally one night when he had tugged and 
strained even more violently than usual, one 
of the links in his chain which had been only 
partly welded broke and he was free. 

Free from the chain, but not free from the 
hospital. He knew well that if any one dis- 
covered that he was loose, he would be tied 
up again, so he crouched in a corner of the 
room behind a packing box and awaited his 
chance. 

Nurses often came to this storeroom in the 
night for supplies. 

After about half an hour, the door opened 
quickly and some one came in hurriedly. 
The door was left half ajar, so Pep slipped 
out and ran into the main corridor leading 
to the great quadrangle in front of the hos- 
pital. Here he slipped behind a door and 
waited for the next door to open. 

Luck was with him. The telephone was 
constantly ringing, and soon nurses and 
doctors were hurrying to and fro. Pres- 


87 


The Hospital 

ently he learned the reason why, for they 
began bringing in an endless procession of 
wounded men. The quadrangle was filled 
with ambulances. 

He could hear the motors puffing away 
from his hiding place. When wounded and 
dying men are arriving faster than they 
can be cared for, men do not think much 
about dogs, so it was easy enough for Pep 
to slip out through the quadrangle and into 
the boulevard. He brushed against the leg 
of his friend the Captain, who did not even 
notice him. 

Once out on the broad street he turned 
his nose northward and galloped away like 
the wind. 

Something away to the northeast was call- 
ing, calling, calling. A mind and a soul 
that was stronger than his own dog mind 
was pulling him, pulling, pulling, pulling, 
so why should he not know which way to go ? 

This sense or instinct which some of the 
dumb animals have is called orientation. 
Dogs and horses have it to a marked degree 
and homing pigeons and seals even more. 
Thompson Seton tells of how when hope- 


88 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

lessly lost in the Eocky Mountains a dozen 
miles from home his horse carried him 
straight to camp, when he gave him his head. 

My own small dog, a clever beagle, has an 
almost uncanny sense of my whereabouts, a 
sense that transcends mind. 

When I arise in the morning and go from 
my bedroom to the bathroom he may be 
playing with some other dogs twenty rods 
away, but as soon as I open my bedroom 
door, as though I had touched a hidden 
spring in his dog intellect, he will turn and 
gallop for the house and be whining at the 
front door to be let in when I come down 
stairs. 

These lesser minds are to our stronger 
minds as filings to the magnet. We call and 
they come though no word is spoken and our 
command may only be expressed in a great 
longing. 

So Pep galloped and galloped and knew 
not why, only something was calling and 
calling and he could but obey. He did not 
need a map or a compass. His dog instinct 
supplied both. 

The reason for his galloping was this. 


89 


The Hospital 

His master, who was also his god, lay in a 
narrow "gulch at the edge of the Argonne 
forest, close to a little brook in a poplar 
thicket, shot through the hips and nearly 
dead from thirst and loss of blood. 


CHAPTER V 


THE BATTLEFIELD 

S O fast do events move at the front, with 
the wonderfully organized war machine, 
that six hours after the doctor’s unit finally 
detrained at a little station somewhere in 
France, near the Argonne forest, they found 
themselves closely following up an American 
regiment. The regiment was engaged in 
that most nerve-racking and hazardous un- 
dertaking of routing out machine-gun nests 
in a heavily wooded sector. 

Even before they left the train they could 
hear the continuous cannonading away to 
the northeast. It was like the constant roll- 
ing of heaviest thunder dotted with many 
quick staccato explosions. The fire from 
the heavy artillery was also visible along 
the horizon. 

At first they went forward through open 

90 


91 


The Battlefield 

country, undulating and broken, but soon 
entered intermittent woods, with deep ra- 
vines and sharp ridges, just the sort of 
country for hard fighting. 

Much of this region was so rough that the 
ambulances could not penetrate it, and the 
wounded had to be brought out for leagues 
on stretchers; but most of them lay where 
they fell and the surgeons and Eed Cross 
men gave them first aid there, and trusted 
to luck to get them out later. 

The region had been the scene of heavy 
fighting for two days, and the signs of war’s 
horrible devastation were on every hand. 
Shrapnel had stripped the trees of much of 
their foliage. Many of them were down 
while others were torn and broken, with 
limbs hanging or strewed on the ground. 
The whole face of nature was scarred and 
furrowed, seamed and made hideous by the 
passing of the hurricane of battle. 

How beautiful was the fair face of France 
in peace, yet how terrible in war. 

But now the heaviest fighting had rolled 
away to the north and the immediate work 
was that of the regiment in front of them 


92 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

which was clearing out the hornet’s nest of 
machine-guns that the Boche had left be- 
hind. 

But the doctor was a man of courage, 
deeply absorbed in his profession, and he 
soon found himself cutting out proud flesh 
and bandaging up gaping wounds, with the 
bullets whistling through the treetops above 
him, just as unconcerned as though he were 
still in the hospital at Brest. From point to 
point these brave men followed in the wake 
of battle, here and there snatching a desper- 
ately wounded man from the very mouth of 
hell. No hands played to divert them. 
There was no glitter of uniforms, or bright 
flag to inspire them, only the call of duty 
and the pathetic gratitude of the poor fel- 
lows whom they succored. 

Just at dusk the doctor found himself 
alone in a narrow gulch. Deep shade was 
overhead, and a little brook babbled softly 
through the gulch, but now its cool waters 
were red with blood and roiled with the 
passing of many feet. In this gulch the 
surgeon found several dead and wounded 
men, and it was while binding up the wounds 


93 


The Battlefield 

of a Tennessee mountaineer who had been 
shot through the hip that a stray bullet 
found the surgeon and stretched him beside 
the man whom he was trying to save. 

At first he was not in great pain, only par- 
alyzed, but as the hours passed and the stars 
appeared up among the tops of the trees, 
fever mounted in his veins and finally de- 
lirium seized him and he talked incoherently 
to a dead man beside him of home and 
friends far away. 

Meanwhile faithful Pep still galloped on 
to the northeast, obedient to the strong 
magnet that pulled him, the call of his mas- 
ter’s heart to his own loving dog heart, 
which knew but this one strong passion. 

All through that night he galloped, only 
occasionally slowing down for a few kilo- 
meters to rest. He did not know to what 
place he was going, or what it would be like 
when he arrived, but he did know that at the 
end of the long road his master was calling 
for him. By noon of the day following his 
escape from the hospital he was so foot-sore 
he sometimes had to stop to lick his paws. 
They were stone bruised and bleeding at the 


94 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

roots of the nails. But he did not pause 
for long, he could not with his master 
calling. 

By evening he had reached the small sta- 
tion where his master had deployed with his 
unit at noon the day before. He immedi- 
ately struck into the partly wooded undulat- 
ing country. The sight of trees and woods 
pleased Pep. All the way he had been fear- 
ful that some one would catch him and carry 
him back to the hospital before he should 
find his master. In the woods he felt more 
secure for here he could hide, besides some- 
thing told him that somewhere here in the 
forest he would find the doctor. 

It was now ten o’clock at night, and the 
Boche had decided that they did not want the 
enemy to bring up fresh troops and occupy 
the woods, so they were sweeping the thickets 
and gulches with shrapnel and shells. Pep 
was terrified with the deafening noise and 
the bright flashes all about him. Occasion- 
ally he would stop and whimper and crouch 
close to the ground. The earth was 
friendly. It would not let these fierce bolts 
of lightning or the terrible thunder get him. 


95 


The Battlefield 

Occasionally he would stand uncertain for 
several seconds and whimper softly. 

Instinctively he knew that these sounds 
were full of danger to himself. He had seen 
what desolation such sounds could make the 
night the Boche bombed the hospital. He 
wanted to go back, but he could not for his 
master was still calling. To him there was 
but one law, and that was obedience to the 
voice which he loved. So after a short time 
he would again creep forward. 

At last after a more fearful explosion 
than usual, which rained small particles all 
about him, he found himself in the narrow 
gulch, by the little stream near which his 
master lay. He stopped for a moment to 
cool his burning feet in the water and to lick 
up some of the refreshing liquid, then, joy 
of joys, he discovered the doctor’s footprints 
in the sand close to the brook. He sniffed 
excitedly and then with a glad yelp sprang 
forward eagerly keeping his nose close to 
the ground in order not to miss the trail. 
It wound in and out for several rods. Once 
it stopped by the side of a dead soldier. Pep 
sniffed at the man’s cold face, then hurried 


96 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

on. Would his master be like that when he 
found him? He missed the trail for a few 
feet where the doctor had stepped on some 
stones, but he soon recovered it again. 
Then joy unyelpable, he took the body scent 
and abandoned the trail. Three or four 
bounds carried him to the spot where the 
surgeon lay, prone upon the ground and very 
still. 

Pep sniffed at his master’s face eagerly. 
It was not cold like the soldier’s. He licked 
the face frantically and whimpered piti- 
fully. He sought the hand and thrust his 
muzzle into it. That, too, was warm, but 
very limp. 

Again Pep began washing the dear face 
and something in the familiar touch pene- 
trated to the surgeon’s slumbering con- 
sciousness, bringing him partly out of his 
swoon. 

Pep noted with delight that the limp 
fingers closed gently over his muzzle and he 
registered his joy with a glad bark. Had 
his master been fully possessed of his senses 
he would have warned him that it was very 
dangerous to bark in the enemy’s country, 


97 


The Battlefield 

but the doctor was only partly conscious. 
The gentle pressure did not mean as much 
as the dog imagined. 

It was partly an involuntary movement. 
He was so used to squeezing the dog’s muz- 
zle that it was something that he did in- 
stinctively. Then the hand lay still for a 
long time and the faithful watcher became 
very anxious. He returned to the face and 
showered it with dog kisses. But his master 
did not respond, so he went back to the hand. 

Here, after a long time, he was again re- 
warded, for the fingers tweaked his ears 
gently. This was an old love token of his 
master’s and the dog was delighted. From 
this time on he went from hand to face lick- 
ing and encouraging his master. 

It is quite possible that these gentle minis- 
trations did much to revive the fainting 
man. They at least gave him something to 
hold on to. They formed an objective, 
something towards which he might struggle, 
just as a gleam of light affords the needed 
clew in the darkness. 

At last the physician came to himself 
enough to speak the dog’s name in a thick, 


98 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

strange voice, but it was unmistakable and 
the frantic terrier was overjoyed. Then 
the man lapsed into silence and was very 
still for another long time. 

Finally to the great relief of the agonized 
dog the hand began fumbling about and the 
man to talk incoherently. 

“I’m shot through the hips. It is dark. 
I was lost, and faithful Pep came and found 
me. He’s a good dog, faithful old Pep.” 

At the sound of his name Pep renewed his 
frantic kissing of his master’s face. 

“Pep he sticks by me. He is a good dog. 
God, how weak I am ! I am burning up. If 
I only had a drop of water.” 

His hand went instinctively to his canteen. 
With a great effort after many trials he 
found it, but the hand was too weak to carry 
it to his lips. Pep watched these feeble 
efforts with dismay, his master was usually 
so strong and decided in his movements. 
He had seen men in the hospital act just like 
this. His master must be sick, indeed. 

Again the doctor rested and Pep waited, 
not knowing what to do. 

Finally, with a deep sigh, the physician 


99 


The Battlefield 

raised the canteen slowly to his lips. He 
was at least a minute in performing this 
simple act, but when his fevered, parched 
lips closed over the nozzle, the canteen was 
found to be entirely empty. With a groan 
he let it fall and sank back discouraged. 
Pep was quick to notice the distress in his 
master’s voice when he again addressed him. 

“Pep, old comrade, I am dying for the 
want of a little water. Water, Pep, I want 
some water.” 

The dog listened intently, but could not 
catch the man’s meaning, so he gave him 
another score of dog kisses. 

The doctor reached down and lifted up the 
empty canteen. “See here, Pep, old com- 
rade, I want water. I am dying for water. ’ ’ 

Pep whimpered softly, echoing his mas- 
ter’s agonized tones. Then the gleam of a 
wonderful idea shot through the doctor’s 
brain. It was an inspiration, a /thought 
the good God who watched over all his chil- 
dren had given him. He laughed as he con- 
sidered it dazedly. It seemed feasible. 
Anyhow it was his only hope. He would 
try it. 


100 Pep: The Story of a Brave Bog 

“Pep,” lie said, lifting the canteen feebly 
and tossing it a few feet away. 

“'Bring, Pep. Bring.” 

The dog at once sprang to the canteen 
and brought it in his mouth to his master. 

“Good dog, we’ll try again. This time 
he tossed it towards the brook, which was 
about twenty feet away. Again Pep re- 
trieved the canteen. Then the doctor threw 
the canteen as far towards the brook as he 
could, having first removed the top. It fell 
just a little short, but Pep brought it to him, 
thinking it a fine game. 

The next time the physician had the satis- 
faction of hearing it drop in the water. 
Pep was after it in a flash. This was great 
fun. 

To the doctor’s disgust there were only a 
few drops of water in the canteen when the 
dog returned with it as he had held it on its 
side. But even these few drops were most 
grateful to the parched tongue. The next 
time they had much better luck. Pep by ac- 
cident held it by the nozzle and the doctor 
found the canteen half full of water. He 
seized it with delight and drank long and 


101 


The Battlefield 

deep. Then he petted and praised Pep gen- 
erously and with a deep sigh of satisfaction 
lay down to rest. 

“You stay here, old comrade, and watch 
while I sleep. I’m just about all in. When 
I have rested we will see if we can get out 
of this.” 

Soon his beloved master was so quiet that 
Pep was once more alarmed lest he become 
like the dead soldier he had seen beside the 
brook a few rods back. For a long time he 
sat on his haunches watching. Occasionally 
he would steal close to the man and lick his 
hand or face. Then he would return to his 
silent vigil. 

In the bushes near by he could hear a 
wounded soldier groaning and moaning, 
talking in his delirium. In another direc- 
tion he could hear some one breathing 
deeply. The doctor could have told him 
that this man was dying, but Pep did not 
know this. All about them in the woods 
shells were bursting. Shrapnel was mak- 
ing the woods hideous, stripping the foliage 
and green branches from the already partly 
denuded trees. 


102 Pep: The Story of a Brave Bog 

Through open places Pep could see 
strange lights to the north. These were sig- 
nal rockets. 

Pep was very tired and footsore. He did 
not feel sleepy, hut very wide awake. There 
was a glad joy in his faithful dog heart for 
he had found his master, but all was not well 
with them yet. His master wanted to sleep 
and sleep. It was not like him. They were 
far from the hospital. These frightful 
noises were not good for either men or dogs, 
but he could do nothing else but just watch 
and wait. Again his master awoke and be- 
gan talking to him strangely. He first 
threw the canteen and drank from it twice, 
but he did not seem to get relief. The truth 
was his fever was mounting and he was even 
weaker than he had been before. Both of 
these facts finally filtered into his conscious- 
ness. Something must he done at once. 

He must have medical aid immediately. 
Somebody or something must come to them 
shortly or it would be too late. Again he 
drowsed and considered the facts in the case 
vaguely. 

Once more he had a bright idea, which was 


103 


The Battlefield 

another inspiration. He must manage in 
some way to get Pep to go for help. This 
was his only chance. He could not tell the 
dog what he wanted, but he could send him 
away. Perhaps he would find a Red Cross 
man somewhere in this inferno of a woods 
and bring him back, so he summoned all his 
remaining strength for this attempt. 

“Here, Pep, old comrade. Come up close 
and listen.” Pep crowded a little closer 
and cocked his ears, alert and eager to do 
his master’s bidding. 

“You must go for help. I can’t tell you 
so you will understand, but go home. Go 
home.” He struck the dog feebly on the 
shoulder and repeated the words, “Go 
home.” 

The blow, slight as it was, hurt Pep 
keenly, but he listened. The doctor re- 
peated the blow and the admonition. 

The dog knew well what those words 
meant. They were the most hateful words 
in his dog vocabulary, which was not large. 
How many times his master had turned, 
when Pep wanted so much to follow, and 
said sternly, “Go home,” 


104 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

He waited. Surely his master could not 
mean it this time. Here he was alone and 
sick away in the dark woods. Surely he 
wanted his dog to stay with him. But again 
the master struck him, and said, sternly, 
“Go home.’ 2 

Sadly, reluctantly, he turned, whimpering 
as he went and trotted off into the darkness 
occasionally looking hack over his shoulder 
to see if his master had not repented. 

The doctor heard him splash into the 
brook to cross it, then he sank down wearily, 
a great drowsiness creeping over him. For 
awhile he fought it, but finally yielded and 
sank into deep oblivion. 


CHAPTER YI 


THE RESCUE 

A S Pep trotted away into the shell-raked 
woods he was probably the most heart- 
broken dog that ever slunk away to do his 
master’s bidding. He had traveled so far 
to find his beloved master, his feet had been 
sore and his tongue parched with the long 
journey and he had watched so faithfully 
by the doctor’s side all through the long 
night. And now his master had sent him 
away. He knew that his master needed him 
also, for he was so weak he could not even 
bring his canteen with water, or hold up his 
head to drink. 

The blow on his shoulder had been a very 
light one, but it had wounded Pep more than 
any blow he had ever received before. 

Why did his master send him away? He 
had been a faithful dog. What should he 


106 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

do? Where should he go? He was not 
quite sure of the way back to the hospital. 
The woods were full of frightful sounds, full 
of lightning and thunder, the kind that tore 
the limbs from great trees, stripped the 
leaves from their branches and plowed 
holes in the ground, holes so deep that if 
he ever fell into one of them he might not be 
able to get out again. 

For several seconds he stood whimpering 
under a bush, uncertain, but his terrier fight- 
ing blood soon asserted itself and he began 
picking his way slowly forward in the direc- 
tion which he thought would take him back 
to the road that led to the hospital. 

For fifteen minutes he went forward man- 
aging by his clever dog instinct to keep going 
in the same direction, where a human being 
might have gone round and round in a circle. 
Then something happened that quite 
changed his course. It came so suddenly 
that he did not know where it came from. 
He only realized in a dim way that it was a 
part of this terrible night, more of the 
frightfulness that was all about him, only 
this time it nearly got him. 


The Rescue 


107 


Suddenly, and without any warning, there 
was a bright flash of light over among the 
bushes. The air was filled with broken 
limbs and flying leaves and dust, and hun- 
dreds of small missiles, and one of these 
which was really a fragment of shrapnel, 
caught Pep in his hind leg, and left that 
member limp and broken, as useless as a 
stick. 

He was so stunned and shaken and the 
breath was so knocked out of him that he 
lay still for several minutes, but finally he 
dragged himself up on three legs and tried 
to discover what had happened to him, and 
where he was. There was such a tangle of 
brush about him that it was difficult to extri- 
cate himself, but finally he dug his way out. 
Then it was that he discovered the accident 
to his leg. It pained him frightfully and 
the blow had partially paralyzed his back, so 
it was many minutes before he could even 
drag himself forward, a few feet at a time. 

Soon his tongue came out and he was pant- 
ing and lolling as though it had been noon- 
day in summer, instead of the cool of the 
morning. It was now so hard to travel that 


108 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

he did not think he could even reach the 
smooth road, for he had to lie down and rest 
every few rods. 

Once he found a cool, green spot under a 
great tree where war had not devastated na- 
ture. Here he lay for half an hour resting 
and then, feeling better, he went forward 
faster. 

He had come almost to the edge of the 
woods when he heard men’s voices. He lis- 
tened eagerly. Perhaps they were friends. 
If they were, he would go to them. Soon he 
made out the voices plainly. They were not 
far away, so he crept forward eagerly. 

At last he made them out. They were 
friends. They wore uniforms like the men 
at the hospital. He wagged his tail fran- 
tically and crept still closer. He would 
make sure. There were so many things to 
be afraid of here in this strange land to 
which he and his master had come. 

Presently the men came so close that he 
could see them plainly. They were talking 
in low voices. They were two Red Cross 
men carrying a wounded soldier on a litter. 
He was very sure they were good men, for 


The Rescue 


109 


their dress was just like that of the men who 
unloaded the ambulances at the hospital. 
With a glad yelp Pep limped forward. He 
felt very sure they would be good to him. 
The Red Cross men had often petted him at 
the hospital. 

The men were so busy with the wounded 
soldier that they did not notice him until he 
rubbed against the leg of one of them. That 
made the man stop and cry out. 

His companion laughed. “ ’E won’t ’urt 
you, Bill,” he heard the other man say. 
“ ’E is just a poor wounded bull terrier. ’E 
just came out of the bush.” The two men 
laid down the stretcher to rest and one of 
them called Pep to him. 

“Poor Perp,” he said. “You ’ev got it 
in your ’ind leg. War is ’ell all right, eh 
old dog?” 

Pep assented and licked the man’s hand. 
There was something he wanted the man to 
do. He could not think what it was, but the 
man’s next words reminded him. 

“Where’s your master, old sport? You 
air lost. Whose dog are you, Perp, any 
how?” J 


110 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

It was not so much the words as the way 
the man said them and the way he rubbed 
Pep’s muzzle that really reminded him of 
his master, wounded and weak, away off in 
the terrible woods. 

Pep whimpered and sniffed and the man 
who loved dogs saw that he had struck a 
sympathetic chord. 

“W’at’s your name, Perp? You looks 
like a good fighting English bull terrier all 
right. You are a thoroughbred or I ain’t no 
judge of dorgs.” 

Pep whimpered again and turned and 
licked his flank. 

“Yes, I see you air hit. So is this poor 
devil in this air stretcher. Come, Bill, we 
must get him out of this.” 

Together they took up the stretcher and 
started forward. Pep was frantic. He 
caught at the man’s pant leg and pulled 
backward. They must not leave his master 
in the woods. They must go for him, too. 

The man kicked at him. ‘ ‘ What ’s the cur 
want, Bill?” he growled. 

“I guess ’e don’t know what he does want. 
He is lonesome and hurt and afraid, an’ 


The Rescue 111 

sick uf the whole durned war, just like you 
and me.” 

When they stopped to rest again, Pep 
went up to the friendly man and nuzzled his 
hand and licked it. Then he turned and 
trotted a few rods away and stopped and 
looked back at them, whimpering and whin- 
ing for them to follow. 

“What do you make of ’im, Bill, any- 
way V 9 asked the surly man. 

“By gun,” cried Bill, springing up, “I ’ey 
it. He wants us to follow ’im, ’e has found 
some one off yonder who is wounded an’ he 
wants us to go with ’im. Perhaps it is his 
master.” 

Pep barked and wagged his tail. When 
the man got up to follow him, he was de- 
lighted. 

“See ’ere, Bill, you can’t leave this ’ere 
one. We ’ey got to get him out first. ’ ’ But 
luck was with Pep, for another Red Cross 
man came along and took Bill’s place at the 
stretcher and his new friend was free to fol- 
low him. 

“Now, Perp,” said Bill comfortingly. 
“You just lead the way an’ if there is any- 


112 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

thing in this ’ere woods you want me to 
know about, I ’m your man. * 9 

Pep went forward eagerly, absolutely sure 
of the way. He no longer thought of his 
broken leg, or the terrors of the woods. He 
was bringing aid to his master. Twenty 
minutes later he led the way into the ravine 
and there they found the doctor. He was 
lying very still with one hand across his 
face. The Red Cross man thought that he 
was dead, but Pep smelled the beloved hand 
and saw that it was warm. The Red Cross 
man felt for the pulse. It was fairly strong. 

“All right, old Perp,” he said in a whis- 
per “ ’E’s still alive. Perhaps we’ll save 
him yet. You just watch here and I will go 
after another hand and a stretcher.” 

So for the second time that night Pep took 
up his vigil by his master’s side on the edge 
of the Argonne forest. 

It greatly worried Pep to have his master 
lie so still. He covered his face with dog 
kisses, and nuzzled his hand, but the hand 
would not move. 

He seized the canteen in his mouth hoping 
that the doctor would throw it that he might 


The Rescue 


113 


bring it to him as he had done earlier in the 
night, but hi& master made no sign. So 
finally the faithful dog lay down to watch. 
He felt sure that the good man would come 
back. Something in his voice had reassured 
Pep. 

At last after about half an hour he heard 
footsteps and soon to his great delight two 
men appeared with an empty stretcher. Si- 
lently they laid the wounded physician on 
the stretcher, then lifted their burden and 
began slowly carrying it through the thick 
woods. Pep limped after them, overjoyed 
that help had come at last. 

For half an hour they crept forward, 
often stopping to rest. At such times Pep 
would crowd up close and put a kiss on his 
master’s cheek. 

Now that the responsibility had been 
partly taken from him, Pep noticed his own 
wound more and more. His broken leg was 
swelling badly, and once when he caught it 
in the underbrush it made him yelp with 
pain. 

Finally, when they had been traveling 
slowly for about an hour, he sank down with 


114 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

a doleful howl and could go no further. 

“ What’s the matter with the dog, Bill?” 
asked the man ahead. “He seems to have 
gone limp.” 

“I guess he’s all in,” returned Bill. 
“Just set down this stretcher and I will go 
back for him.” So Bill went back for Pep 
and took him up tenderly in his arms. 

“What are you going to do with him now 
you have rescued him?” asked the other. 

“He’s going in the stretcher,” returned 
Bill decidedly. His companion grumbled 
and expostulated against carrying a dog, but 
Bill was determined and as usual he had his 
own way. 

“Why, if it had not been for ’im we would 
not have found the doctor at all.” 

So it came about that Pep had the honor 
of riding in a stretcher just like any other 
wounded soldier, and that with his beloved 
master. He snuggled down under the man ’s 
arm, and watched the boughs above brush 
by. He was so tired and exhausted that for 
once he forgot he was a little soldier on 
guard and fell asleep, and did not awake 
until they reached the road. 


The Rescue 


115 


“It’s all right, old Pup,” said his friend 
Bill. 4 ‘We’ve got to the ambulance. You 
was the last straw that nearly broke our 
backs. But I am glad we took you. You 
are well worth saving.” 

Bill took his seat in the ambulance close 
to Pep’s master’s head, the motor began 
purring and they were off for the long run 
to Brest. 

Bill did what he could for the doctor, wet- 
ting his parched lips and forcing brandy be- 
tween his teeth and at last, to the delight 
of both man and dog, they saw the surgeon 
slowly come to himself. 

“Where am I?” he whispered. 

“You are all right, safe and sound here 
in the ambulance. We will be at the hos- 
pital in an hour or two. The dog showed 
us where you were.’ ? 

The doctor smiled and whispered Pep’s 
name. He drew the dog close to him and his 
hand held one of the terrier’s ears gently. 
Thus with a deep sigh of satisfaction Pep 
again dozed and did not awake until they 
reached their journey’s end. 


CHAPTER VII 


HOMEWARD BOUND 

T HANKS to the restoratives given him 
and the nursing he received while on 
the journey, the doctor recovered conscious- 
ness before they reached the hospital. He 
did not seem to care about himself, but gave 
very minute directions regarding Pep. 

‘ ‘He stuck by me like a brother and saved 
my life, and I want him to have every care 
that any wounded soldier would get. I 
want his leg put in splints, and the best sur- 
geon in the hospital to dress it every day. 
You may think he is nothing but a dog, but I 
tell you he is a soldier and deserves a sol- 
dier’s care .’- 2 

After that the doctor lapsed into silence 
and let things take their course. He knew 
instinctively that everything would be done 

for him, but he was not so sure about Pep. 
116 


Homeward Bound 


117 


Some people appreciated dogs and some 
didn’t. He did not want any slight put on 
his little chum, now they had been through so 
much together. 

So it was finally arranged that they should 
occupy the same ward ; or, rather, Pep was 
given a rug to lie on under a small table at 
the head of the doctor’s bed. He was very 
comfortable here so near his beloved master. 

The doctor, as he lay drowsing, would 
often hear the dog give deep sighs of content 
as he settled down in a more comfortable 
position on his rug. 

The slightest movement on the part of the 
doctor would set the dog’s tail wagging. 
Every hour or so he would go to the bed- 
side and reach his head up for a little pet- 
ting. Then he would kiss his master ’s hand, 
and they would tell each other in dog and 
man language, which was half sign and half 
speech, how much they loved each other. 

Every morning when the surgeon made! 
his rounds, he would speak to Pep and at- 
tend to his splints in the presence of his 
master. If Pep was feeling especially good, 
he would consent to follow the surgeon on 


118 Pep: The Story of a Brave Bog 

his visit down the ward, stopping critically 
at the bedside of each patient, and watching 
proceedings narrowly. But he always re- 
turned quickly to his master’s bedside once 
the surgeon had made his rounds. Pep 
seemed to think that it was a part of his 
duty to look out for the poor soldiers now 
that his master could not. 

It was a joyous day for Pep when his mas- 
ter could finally hobble about the hospital 
on two canes. They went from ward to 
ward talking and joking with the men. 
Everywhere they were greeted as heroes. 
The doctor always had to tell the story of 
Pep’s long, faithful vigil in the woods on 
that hideous night. This would make the 
soldiers look hard at Pep and stroke his 
head and tell him that he was a good old 
sport and that they were proud of him. 

One day about three weeks after they had 
returned to the hospital, the doctor received 
a letter from home and he and Pep retired 
to a quiet room to read it together. 

“Here, old pal, you climb up into my lap. 
Be careful and don’t hurt my leg. I’ve got 
a letter. It’s from the little woman.” 


Homeward Bound 


119 


When he had opened the missive and 
spread it out, the doctor let Pep smell it and 
from the delighted wags of his tail and a 
glad bark that he gave, the physician was 
sure that he recognized the scent of his mis- 
tress’s hand on the paper. 

“It nearly broke her heart,” explained the 
doctor, “to know that both her soldiers were 
wounded. It has taken a great load from 
her to receive the second cable, saying that 
I am out of danger. She doesn’t mind if we 
are lame and crippled, if she can only get us 
back, Pep.’ 3 

The dog was so excited about the letter 
that he constantly nosed and sniffed at it, 
so that it was difficult for his master to read 
it, but finally the end with worlds of love for 
them both was reached. 

It was strange, thought the doctor, as he 
folded the letter and put it away, how this 
bit of paper had moved him. He had been 
through so much since coming to France, 
that he was not quite himself, but there was 
another consideration also. He had come 
so near to losing everything there in the Ar- 
gonne Forest that life and home and loved 


120 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

ones had become doubly dear. He had often 
seen strong men weep like babies when they 
received letters from home. It had seemed 
strange to him that they should be so moved, 
but now he understood. 

Two weeks more at the hospital went by 
and both master and dog improved rapidly. 
Finally the doctor was able to give up one 
cane, while Pep had his splint removed and 
his master declared that he would soon be as 
good as new. 

It was about that time the division general 
visited the hospital. He brought with him 
the government’s reward for bravery. In 
the presence of the superintendent of the 
hospital, he pinned a cross for distinguished 
service on Pep’s master’s coat. 

“I wouldn’t be here at all to receive the 
cross, general,” said the delighted surgeon, 
1 ‘if it had not been for that dog. ’ ’ The gen- 
eral asked for Pep’s story and the doctor 
told it. 

“Wish I had a handful of crosses for 
dogs,” said the general at the conclusion of 
the story. “I would certainly give him one. 
Here is some money. Get him the finest 


Homeward Bound 


121 


collar that money can buy and mark it from 
General Blank, as a mark of his apprecia- 
tion of distinguished service.’^ 

With these words the general shook the 
doctor’s hand, and after stroking Pep’s 
head went on his way, carrying cheer to the 
deserving soldiers in the hospital. As he 
went from ward to ward, he felt that all 
were deserving of the little crosses, but some 
were luckier than others. 

The next day the doctor and Pep went out 
shopping and bought the best collar to be 
found in the city and had it engraved as 
the General had directed. When they re- 
turned, Pep went through the wards exhib- 
iting his collar. He was a very proud dog. 
Of course he did not just know what it was 
all about, but he felt quite sure that he had 
done something fine, and that these good 
men all knew it. So if wagging of his tail 
would show his appreciation, he certainly 
expressed his own feeling on the whole 
matter. 

After two more pleasant weeks at the hos- 
pital they were discharged and the doctor 
packed up his earthly belongings, which 


122 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

were few, and made ready to sail. The 
great ship on which they had come across 
was loading in the harbor and they did not 
intend to get left. 

So one evening they made a final round of 
the wards and said good-by to all their 
friends. Then they were spirited away to 
the wharf in a taxicab. 

They should have gone like heroes, with 
bands playing and flags flying, but the exi- 
gencies of war forbade such publicity. In- 
stead they went in the dead of night, with 
lights all out so that they could not even see 
Old Glory at the masthead. Thus they 
slipped out of the harbor into the broad 
Atlantic. 

When the sun came up the following 
morning, the great ship was far out at sea. 
It was a wonderful morning of blue sky 
and rolling billows and fresh wind. The 
entire scene suggested nothing but peace. 

And best of all, the ship was homeward 
bound. Home, home, home, sang the waves 
as they slipped under the bow, and the winds 
sang home in the rigging. But the weary 


Homeward Bound 


123 


hearts of the passengers sang home louder 
than the winds or the waves. 

Probably the two most entirely happy pas- 
sengers on the ship were Pep and the doctor 
as they walked on the hurricane deck and 
watched the waves and the sky. 

There were no other passengers on the 
deck and the doctor talked to Pep as was 
his wont when they were alone, and the dog, 
delighted with this confidence, cocked his 
ears and listened intently to catch every 
word. 

“It’s a great thing, Pep, old sport, to be 
alive after what we have gone through.’ ’ 

“That’s so,” wagged Pep. 

“Those Boches nearly got us both, old Pal, 
but we finally gave them the slip.” 

“So we did,” sniffed the dog. 

“Do you know we are going home to the 
little woman, Pep ? Home, Pep, home. 
We are going home.” 

The dog saw that a climax in their joy had 
been reached so he barked gladly, at which 
the doctor laughed like a boy. 

It was just at this point in their confi- 


124 Pep: The Story of a Brave Dog 

dential conversation that Hilda and her 
father came on deck. The doctor, who had 
not known that they were aboard, greeted 
them joyously, while Pep fairly wagged 
his tail off at the sight of his little playmate. 
Soon the two were racing up and down the 
deck in the finest kind of a romp. This was 
after Hilda had heard the story of Pep’s 
bravery and spelled out the inscription on 
his new collar. 

“Come, Pep,” said Hilda. “Let’s you 
and I sit here on this steamer rug and visit 
while our fathers talk and smoke. I mean 
while my father and your master visit. I 
haven’t hurt your feelings by saying he was 
not your father, have I?” inquired Hilda. 
“I wouldn’t hurt the feelings of such a brave 
dog for the whole world.” 

Pep assured her with several warm dog 
kisses fairly upon the lips that his feelings 
were not hurt and she once more read the in- 
scription on the collar. 

“I’m awfully proud of you, Pep,” said 
Hilda. “You are as brave as a soldier. Do 
you know I always remember you in my 
prayers? That is because you saved my 


Homeward Bound 


125 


life. I say, ‘Please, God, keep Pep and 
give him lots of bones to eat.’ ” 

The terrier wagged his appreciation. Of 
course he did not know what she was saying, 
but he knew it was something good, and he 
must remember his manners and be appreci- 
ative. So he wagged and kissed and rubbed 
his cheek against hers. 

“I think this is the very best morning I 
ever saw,” said Hilda with a sigh of perfect 
rapture. 

“So do I,” agreed Pep with a short, glad 
bark. 

“Let’s be friends always,^ said Hilda, 
hugging the dog to her breast. 

“All right,” sniffed Pep, showering her 
face with dog kisses, “forever and forever.” 


THE END 


























































































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